By Steel and Starlight
by Selene Sokal
Summary: Carrying intelligence critical to the fate of the whole galaxy, a princess, her bodyguard, her sister, and a defector need to make a long, secretive, and dangerous journey with the aid of a small crew of smugglers, and their ship: the Juniper.
1. It Begins In A Bar

It's amazing how much you can say without ever using words.

Yang considered herself an expert on the subject, both as a speaker, as she leaned forward over the table, and a listener, watching the young starship captain she was negotiating with's eyes go wide as his pupils shifted right down to where she intended, his comments on per diem costs seeming to evaporate on his lips. _Hook, line, sinker._

Unfortunately, his companion interrupted by clearing his throat and sliding over a paper bearing the route map. So, alas, the game wasn't over yet. "If we're avoiding jump points, the trip will not only be much slower, but we can expect fuel costs to be higher, seeing as we're not on the main lanes—and while I understand you've requested secrecy on your circumstances, I'd still like to discuss our hazard pay concerns."

It wasn't hard to figure out their little game—the friendly, disarming captain paired with the ice-in-his-veins business manager. But if it was intended, they weren't as good at it as they thought. They certainly had the look of two opposites—a big, gregarious guy with messy blonde hair and a wide, easy smile vs. the lithe, analytical figure with straight black hair, and permanently pursed lips. One draws you in, the other goes for the pocketbook. The thing is, the only way that scam works is if the business manager was the one making the decisions—and it seems that this Mr. Ren was stuck trying to reign in his captain instead of driving the deal. As long as she had the captain following her lead, she could lead them on a goose chase all day.

"I understand your concerns." Fortunately, Blake could handle the aboveboard diplomacy. They were playing their own version of the scam, with Blake going in for the kill once they'd been dazzled by Yang. Blake kept her voice to a conspiratorial low. They were in a mostly private corner of one of the galaxy's godawful dive bars, but Yang knew this territory well enough to know that meant someone was always keeping an ear open. "Our client is an Atlessian noblewoman, who, for matters of political expediency, needs to travel in utter secrecy. As you described your ship, it seemed more than capable to evade or outrun any craft, without relying on violence. But we don't expect we should need it-"

* * *

_The flames roared around them as a metal scaffold groaned, and then collapsed with a terrible crash. But as Yang bashed out the door, she heard the shriek of metal grinding on metal. Turning, she saw the bull Faunus still, somehow, alive._

_"Does he ever quit?" But Blake stood transfixed at the man, blood streaming down his face and tangled in debris, powered by pure, ceaseless fury, seemed to simply force himself through the rubble, stretching his arm at them and crying out, "BLAKE!"_

_To Yang's disbelieving eyes, Blake began to take a half step towards the madman. There was no other choice; she slapped her across the face and yelled, "We have to go. Now!" Grabbing her hand, she took off without looking back. She could hear him scream "TRAITOR!" with hatred enough to bring the whole building down on them._

* * *

"-and it should be a simple and quiet delivery of our employer to Atlessian space."

Mr. Ren prepared a response, only to be cut off by his companion. "I can assure you, the ship's more than fast enough to outrun anything you might want to avoid: Grimm, bandit, or law enforcement. And we've got plenty of experience taking the slow road across fringe space. You're in good hands here."

"That's what we were hoping to hear, captain." Yang shot her subtlest, smuggest smile to Blake. Her "poor, helpless maidens" act was a bullseye, and only they could really pull it off. Ruby, too young and excitable, Weiss, too dignified to ever deign to seem not in control. It's why she recommended the two of them take the task of chartering the flight, even if Blake thought it was too ridiculous to even want to talk about it. That girl, in Yang's estimation, needed to just own up to the fact that she was super hot.

"You can trust, when I take on a job, my crew and I see it to the end. We've never failed a delivery yet, cause after all," as he flashed a smile as self-satisfied as Yang's own, "An Arc never goes back on his word!"

And sometimes, even when speaking out loud, it's still the unsaid part that carries the most weight.

* * *

Weiss Lexissima Maria Severina Hochzerhollen Schnee, Protector of Alsius, Duchess of Mantle, and Crown Princess and Heir to Atlessian space, had seen more in the past year than she had ever dreamed of in her previous nineteen. She'd been in gunfights, both on land and in spacecraft, and even fought in a boarding action, using Myrtenaster against an actual opponent—not a drill, not a spar, a real, life-or-death sword duel. And she'd learned of her own prejudices, she'd learned to be a kinder, better person, and how to let friends into her life.

And right now she was learning what a fried pickle was.

Well, that might be a strong word for what she was doing. She'd taken a dainty nibble, anticipating the poison to come quickly and viciously, and, when it failed to kill her immediately, grimaced, waiting for the shock to set in.

This was not acceptable to her companion.

"Aww, come on, you've gotta take a big bite!" To illustrate her point, she chomped half the pickle in a sickening _CRUNCH._ "Mmmmm," she said, while chewing, "This is the good stuff. Best part of going on resupply runs with my dad when I was a kid is he'd get us fried pickles at the starport. Ooh! And we'd get to go to the movies if I was good! We should go do that, too!"

Ruby was, in many ways, her least essential companion—Blake had crucial intelligence against the White Fang, Yang was her bodyguard, Ruby was just the tagalong, the little sister—but of all of them, who had become her unexpected and dear friends, Weiss cherished Ruby the most. They were opposites in almost every way, but once Weiss had gotten over herself, she'd realized an opposite was what she needed. Someone who was brash and enthusiastic and never gave up, not when challenged and not on the galaxy, which seemed increasingly cold and distant as she and her companions untangled the conspiratorial skein before them. But facing that hopelessness never felt impossible so long as she had Ruby at her side.

The door burst open. "Heya nerds, _Yang-_ing out without us?" An interruption. Thank the gods; she slid the fried pickle back into its paper wrapper.

Yang plopped herself down on one of the room's flimsy chairs, which creaked from the force. "Got us a ship," and she tossed a file of schematics on the table, which Ruby eagerly snatched up and pored over. "You shoulda seen it. Captain's just oh-so-eager to help some lost and desperate Atlessian noblewoman get back home. Especially when she'll be _ever_ so grateful."

Weiss swallowed, "Yang, who exactly did you-"

"She's teasing you." Blake poured herself a glass of water, grimacing slightly at the slight yellowish tinge it had. Though hardly the worst aspect of her recent journeys, Weiss knew that a return to Atlas would mean putting as much distance between herself and these nightmarish backwater motels. "He's a kid, barely older than you and Ruby. Seemed honest enough, for this line of work, plus, we came under budget."

"Did he ask any questions? About me, the route, privacy, anything?"

"Not so much, professional enough to get that we weren't interested in answering anything. Yang had some concerns about the first mate, though."

Yang sighed. "Yeah, he was definitely on the ball. Not necessarily bad, but something we're gonna have to—Ooh! Fried pickles!" She snatched the paper sleeve from Weiss (_Oh no. That's mine. Stop._) and popped it in her mouth. "Oh, sho good," she chewed, "Anywaysh, nhot a bad guy, but-"

"Yang! Don't talk with your mouth full!"

Yang gave her an eye roll before she swallowed it all in a messy _GULP_. Ruby took the chance to chime in. "Did you get a chance to check out the ship?"

"Er, no, but the registry paperwork seemed all in order. Is something wrong?"

"Uh, I wouldn't say _wrong_, but," Ruby started fanning the papers across the table, jabbing a finger at relevant lines and schematics. "Almost none of these are factory standard, and some of it almost doesn't make sense. This is saying they've got a nearly Frigate-class engine crammed into a consumer-grade model of a Valean assault ship, and I've got no idea how they're running this many ion thrusters without overdrawing their power demands."

If this meant anything to anyone other than Ruby, it certainly didn't mean anything to Weiss. She absentmindedly scratched her leg, still unused to the rough denim. They'd pawned her wardrobe early in their travels—partly for the quick funds, mostly because it would simply get in the way for this work. They were too bulky and space consuming for non-luxury travel, and were too fragile and loose for the tight, edged spaces demanded by ship maintenance. Do the clothes make the woman? Had her change in outlook necessitated the new wardrobe, or had the new wardrobe changed her outlook? Worse, she was mostly borrowing from Ruby's wardrobe, something Yang mercilessly teased the both of them for.

"So?" Yang yawned, pulling Weiss back to the matter at hand. "Just means it'll be a faster trip than expected."

"_Or_, they're lying about their capacities to try to impress us, and we'll be stuck puttering our way through hostile space."

Even if nobody knew what she was talking about half the time, it was undeniable that Ruby knew her ships. But her tone had an undeniable edge of excitement underneath the caution, a clear sign that, if nothing else, she really wanted to see this ship and see if it lived up to its reputation. Yang shrugged. "A ship's a ship, and it was never going to be a fast trip. And if we did get suckered by interstellar con artists, their crew complement's only four, and judging from the two I met," she punched her fist into her palm to make her point. _"Pow!_ If we need to go pirate, it shouldn't be too hard to take the ship."

"Oh, we're already thinking of robbing them?" Blake's sarcasm cut the room deep.

"No." Weiss interjected, "But our mission is too important to be left to any chance. Whatever it comes to… I'd really prefer not to, but…"

It wasn't a pleasant thing to imagine, and a year ago, it'd be wholly unimaginable. But, like it or not, it was the truth. For the good of Atlas, for all the kingdoms, they could not afford to fail.

* * *

It was a… polarizing ship, in Yang's most diplomatic opinion. Bulbous and ungainly from numerous amateur repairs, as well as some clearly unlicensed, function-over-form upgrades, made even worse where the sleek, military-grade features of the ship it once was poked through. An old war horse, with only scraps of its past dignity still on display. _Please! _It cried out to her, _Put me out of my misery!_ She'd come in expecting a smuggler's puddle jumper, and this ship was, undeniably that. It was however, still substantially uglier than even that most very low bar. She could feel apprehension and, honestly, disgust, radiate off Weiss (though she had to admire how much the princess had grown in that she didn't _say_ what she was oh-so-clearly feeling).

But Ruby… the girl was off like a rocket, practically teleporting from one feature to the next, all of her previous skepticism dissipating into the air, pointing out each bulge and plate while babbling off a string of letters and numbers, which, from the intense smile on her face, were good numbers and letters that meant the ship lived up to its description—and really, a good ship was a good ship. It could be an interplanetary ice cream truck, and as long as it got them to Atlesian space, she could live with it.

Blake was Blake, which was to say, indifferent with an air of opaque mystery. Yang knew her well enough that this was her practiced indifference, not her usual one, so she either hated it or adored it, with no in-between, and just didn't want anyone to see she felt things. She was even more an aesthete than Weiss, and this ship sure wasn't winning any awards in the looks department, _but_ Blake, despite her air of quiet disdain and mystery, was also a dyed-in-the-wool romantic, and this ship just _screamed_ rag-tag band of heroes living on the fringe of society. Either way, Yang saw Blake's course as the wisest course of action—let Ruby flatter the captain with her enthusiasm, then keep it coolly professional as she made any further negotiations on Weiss's behalf.

"Yang! Yaaaang! You're not liiiistening!" Well, _obviously,_ she wasn't. "They've reinforced the nacelle transept arms _into_ the dorsal augment vents! _It's how they're able to handle the flexile torque of a TX-35 engine!_ It's! So! Cool!"

"Ha! Just wait until we've got it powered up!" A girl popped out from an access port. Short, redheaded, and eyes, framed by the smudge of engine grime and a pair of welding goggles, sparkling with an all-too-familiar manic energy. "We can overdrive the main turbine and you can just _feel_ it hum through the whole deck! It sounds like the dang thing's about to explode!"

Not a good sign, not a good sign at all, but Ruby evidently hadn't heard the words "explode," and was immediately bolting out a string of rapid-fire questions, to which the girl was firing back rapid-fire answers—presumably. Yang wasn't entirely sure they were still speaking at a pace or frequency humans could understand.

"Oh gods," She heard Blake behind her. "There's two of them."

Yang could now see that this strange girl's bomber jacket had the words "HAMMER WIZARD" crudely embroidered on the back, around a hammer-and-thunderbolt logo. What hammers and wizards had to do with each other, Yang could only guess, but the image it suggested was very much a "move fast and break things" look. So, of course, she was instant friends with Ruby.

"Nora? Who are you- Oh!" A familiar blond face revealed itself as a door to the ship opened. "I didn't think you'd be here until," he checked his watch, "Uh, now." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry about that, lost track of time with the precheck. You must be Ms. Kristall," he nodded to Weiss, "I'm Jaune Arc, ship's captain. Can I help with your bags? Oh! And the woman your friend's speaking to, that's our engineer, Nora Valkyrie. Nora, say hi to our guests."

In a flash, Nora was in front of them, fast enough to set off Yang's bodyguard reflex to move to intercept between her and the princess. "Hiiiii! I'm Nora, and this is," she took a deep breath, "THE JUNIPER! Da-dada-da-da! Kapowsh! Kapowsh!" Sound effects punctuated with jazz hands.

And it did read _The Juniper_ on its hull, or, more accurately, _THE JUNiper,_ seeing where the name had been, crudely and partially, re-stenciled after plasma scoring had burned off the last few letters.

Weiss was the one to break the silence. "Were those… fireworks?"

"You know it! Here, let me take your bags!" She grabbed the luggage out of Yang's arms, and she marveled at how easily she flipped it into her own grasp—girl was strong as hell, and, she noted, definitely not someone to be underestimated in close quarters if things got physical. As Nora turned to carry the baggage back to the ship, Yang whispered to Weiss, "Seems like their crew's almost as-"

She was cut off as her mouth and her eyes suddenly became disconnected from her brain and the final member of the_ Juniper's_ crew exited—really, she seemed more to _glide_—from the ship. Long, bright red hair seemed to flow like a river of fire down her back, a stunning contrast to her olive skin, as a pair of green eyes, piercing, yet tempered with such a soft kindness, seemed to draw all light into them. First Blake and now this? Whatever gods watched over her travels, they were good ones. She wore a simple brown cloak with a simple bronze tiara as her sole decoration, as though she was making a futile, doomed attempt not to stand out. In a word: _Damn_.

A tiny elbow jabbed her in the lungs to jog her back to reality, just in time for the beauty to walk up to her. She didn't seem to notice the gawking. Or she was simply used to it enough to tune it out. Yang was pretty sure that even if she was straight, she'd be checking her out.

"I'm Pyrrha Nikos." She reached for a handshake. "I handle security for the_ Juniper._"

Ah, _hell_.

Couldn't she have been, like, ship's counselor or something? Or literally any other job where she wouldn't be Yang's first priority to choke out if things started to look bad? Well, she resolved, as unfortunate as it might be, this trip _was_ business, not pleasure. And if the worst thing that happened on this journey was being cruelly forced not to flirt, she'd endure it. But she would absolutely complain about it the whole way.

"Yang Xiao-Long. Bodyguard for Ms. Kristall. Blake Belladonna," she jabbed her head back, "is Ms. Kristall's personal assistant. And the girl who's about to start kissing your ship is my sister, Ruby."

She giggled at that (was her voice seriously that darn _musical?_), and Yang inwardly cursed the fickle gods that let them meet, but only in these circumstances. "We are ready for you to board, even if Jaune might have lost track of time."

Yang nodded, and the group moved to board. But Blake quietly tapped Yang's shoulder. "People approaching. Moving fast, get ready." Heightened Faunus senses, coming in handy once again.

"Get Weiss on board," Yang whispered back. Then she turned with the _swoosh_ of the hanger doors opening, and a group of men entered. Bad news.

"Oh, is this about the refueling fees?" Apparently, the captain wasn't as attuned to his danger sense, "Because I told your-"

"JAUNE!"

Four things seemed to happen in that instant.

\- Pyrrha shoved her captain out of danger.

\- The men pulled out their weapons.

\- Yang brought her gauntlets up, and armed an overcharged shot.

\- Pyrrha whipped out a blaster rifle from her robes.

If that was the correct order of things, Yang wasn't sure, but in a single moment, everyone opened fire and full chaos broke out. The rest of the group scrambled into the ship as she and Pyrrha laid down suppressing fire.

"Ren! Nora!" She heard Jaune yell, "Get the ship moving, now!"

She heard the whir of the hanger's anti-ship deck guns deploy. _Shit_. "Shoot out their sensors! It'll take 'em a second to switch it to manual!"

Two quick shots hissed as twin cameras burst into a shower of sparks. Yang had never seen anyone shoot so quickly, so fluidly, and so accurately, even among the celebrated pirates, bounty hunters, and mercenaries she'd grown up with. _What the hell_ _is someone this good doing on a smuggling vessel?_ But she'd have time to think it through later—whatever this girl might be, she wasn't the one shooting at her at the moment. Yang prepped a flash grenade and hurled it to the door. "Get in the ship, let's go!"

She raced up the gangway as it closed up behind her. She heard the burst of the grenade and felt the brief surge of light and heat across her back, before the gangway clicked into place, and the ship rumbled and shook as it started to rise into the air.

As she entered the ship, she made a quick headcount—Ruby, Weiss, and Blake were all accounted for. Good. All looked unharmed—a little startled, Weiss looked a little shaken up, but they'd all been through a messy departure before.

She threw back her head and laughed. "Alright! Woo! Don't this just make you feel _alive!_"

"I'd prefer" Weiss sniffed, "If we had fewer takeoffs like this in the future."

Ruby pulled Weiss into a tight hug, which she struggled to escape. "Aww, you know you'd miss it."

"And let's be honest," Blake added, "We most likely still have a few more violent exits in store for us. Prepare for the worst."

As Weiss broke free from Ruby's grasp, Yang let herself sit down and take a breather. The ship wasn't any prettier on the inside, but it had a certain hominess to it that she, a former spacer, could appreciate. A few decorative weavings hung from the metal walls, and a holographic chess set stood in the corner. Someone had hung a needlepoint "Ship, Sweet Ship," with an image of what the ship, presumably, used to look like, pre-modifications. Whatever else they might face on this journey, they were a long way from home, a long, dangerous way, and she knew that chances to appreciate these little luxuries would be few and far between. She reclined back and kicked her boots up on an already well-scuffed table.

"Pfft. After all we've been through, the worst had better be preparing for us!"

* * *

**Wow, I was not expecting the positive response "The King and I," my first attempt at writing and publishing fanfiction, would receive. Thanks to all of you who left positive comments and follows, and if you've never written fanfic before, it's kind of intoxicating, and I very much appreciate it!**

**I suppose this story could be summarized as "I was playing ****_FTL_****, and realize the ships capped out at an 8-person crew." That's not to say the story will work with ****_FTL's _****mechanics, setting, etc., but some of the aesthetics might be borrowed from it. This story will be more classic space opera (which is to say: heavily cribbed from ****_Star Wars_****): you've got the scoundrel, the kid, the princess, the mystic, Chewbacca is also there, and the plot's drawn from the media theory of Marshall McLuhan! Good times for some swashbuckling space adventures and romances lit by laser fire! I'll see you all in Chapter 2!**


	2. Testing the Waters

Once the adrenaline began to cool, things reverted back to the norms of space travel, which is to say: boredom. Putting eight people in an enclosed space for several days—several days that would be spent jumping at even the slightest sign of danger, mind you—and you had a recipe for disaster. Fortunately, as experienced spacers, they knew the way to keeping sanity and peace intact on long flights: annoying Weiss. A strategy that, despite never once working in the past, they whole team swore by.

Right now, Yang was leaning against the doorframe of the main room, watching Ruby playing chess with the ship's engineer, if you could call it "playing" when Ruby barely knew the rules and Nora…

"The foolproof trick to chess is," she tapped her forehead, "you've got to keep your opponent off guard. Get'em into a rhythm, start with your castling, your en passants, your double dutches, all that usual chess stuff." Weiss looked impressively scandalized by that. "Then _BLAM_" she smacked the board so hard the pieces flickered, "you start pulling out rules from checkers and Go and some you just made up. They won't see that coming!"

"Wow! And that works?"

"Uh-huh! I haven't lost a game against Ren yet, and he's _super_ good at chess."

"That's… that's _not how you play chess!_" Ah, the princess had finally cracked. "That's just not- that's- _stop teaching Ruby chess wrong!_"

"Wow," Nora's voice took on a surprising seriousness. "You should probably tell Ren that. All this time he's had no _idea_ that I wasn't allowed to do that."

Yang chuckled as she walked away from the fireworks. She wandered from the common room to the cockpit, admiring the lived-in details along the way—tacked up paperwork with the dates of engine repairs scribbled into a grid, the odd note about chore rotations, or a reminder on some engine quirk. Most curious was the flyer for a kickball league hosted at a spaceport she'd never heard of. It all made her homesick for her old ship, _The Qrow_, where she kept a photo of her dad and her dog, Zwei, over the comms panel, a yellowing crayon drawing Ruby made of them, from back when she was seven, and, in spite of everything that had happened, she still kept her old raven's feather totem over the helm.

The cockpit of the _Juniper_ was even messier, but more from its heavily modified systems rather than anything decorative. She could see where unlabeled dials and switches had clearly been welded into the ship's interface, with a mess of bundled wires tangling up behind them. It was quiet, aside from the steady hum and beeps of the piloting system and the occasional _click_ of a flipped switch. It seemed Mr. Ren was alone at the helm, which meant this was a great opportunity for a little… conversation. She dropped herself into one of the back two passenger seats and adjusted herself into the well-worn cushion.

"So…" she started casually, "you're the navigator, first mate, business manager, pilot, and… that's all?"

He didn't turn to face her, continuing to flip diagnostic switches. "I fill in roles around the ship where I'm needed."

"Huh. Reminds me of when I was a first mate. There wasn't a job the captain couldn't delegate to me." Time to start testing the waters. If trouble came down, Pyrrha and Nora might be the highest priority threats, but if there was going to be trouble or not was going to be down to the first mate. If he was loyal to his captain, problem solved, Jaune seemed manageable enough. But if not, his second was clearly smart, competent, and, worst of all, someone who paid attention. Sometimes, the crews of chartered ships, especially for wealthy travellers, got _ideas._ "Though, have to say, don't think I've ever seen a captain so…" she let her meaning hang as she trailed off. "But I'm sure he's the one who calls the shots around here."

"I can't imagine what you're implying with that statement." A little ice started to creep into his voice.

It was one thing to not react to her feminine wiles—against common wisdom, most men didn't shut down when they encountered a flirtatious girl, even one as, ahem, _gifted_ as her—but it was another thing to be infuriatingly hard to read. Loyal, disloyal, the real brains behind the operation—he was the big unknown on a ship full of big unknowns, and she did not like having her client in this situation. Far worse that Weiss was also her friend. Well, if she was going into this blind, she might as well risk it. Match his tone. Let some of that ice creep into her own voice. "I'm a bodyguard, if there's something I need to keep an eye out for, I like to make sure I've got my eye on it."

* * *

Ship time was a strange concept, but it was simplest in the early stages of a voyage. You stuck to the time set by whatever planet you'd left from, awake at "daytime" and asleep at "nighttime." And then, as time went on, it got stranger and stranger until the only order was the schedule kept by the helm. That was a nuisance for Blake. An experienced spy and infiltrator, she liked it when time bunched people up. Made it easier to keep track of who she needed to keep an eye out for.

But for now, it was still to her advantage. The crew of the_ Juniper_ were gathered in the small kitchen near the cockpit, enjoying a meal together. She didn't share the concerns Yang quietly relayed to her, but she knew awareness was the most important part of protection. They seemed nice, but they were humans—they could turn in an instant. So she fit herself into a nook a little ways from the door and tuned her hearing towards them.

"Had an _interesting_ discussion with Ms. Xiao-Long, the bodyguard." Their voices were low, but they weren't expecting the sensitivity of Faunus hearing, even from a room away. And, of course, they immediately confirmed her fears that Yang had overplayed her hand. Blake admired Yang more than any human she'd ever known, a mother bear beneath her obnoxiously flirtatious exterior, who'd fight for her friends with a tenacity and ferocity that made Blake feel… safe, in a way she hadn't felt since… long before she joined the White Fang. But Yang had never once heard the world "subtlety" in her life. "I believe she is either anticipating a mutiny, or she is looking to instigate one."

"Man," the captain let out an ironic chuckle, "What I wouldn't give for just one client who didn't immediately write me off." Which was, well, fair enough.

"Oooh!" The engineer. A loud, Rubyish woman made even louder with her enhanced senses. Not Blake's favorite of the bunch. "You should've thrown down in the gunfight. We can get you dual pistols and then you can go BLAM BLAM BLA-BLAM BLAM!"

Ah, sound-induced ear trauma, her old friend.

"_Or_, you could start taking first meetings more seriously. Like I'm always telling you." A light, teasing tone entered the first mate's voice. Wonders never cease—the boy did have emotions. "But that's only part of my concerns. At this very moment, we have an Atlessian noble on board travelling with a disguised Faunus-"

This… this was a surprise to Blake. She unconsciously reached her hand to her bow, as if to check it was out of place. The disguise wasn't expected to last that long, but she'd barely even _met_ the crew. Maybe Yang was on to something, being wary of the ship's mate.

"-which tells me there's something more to this than they're telling us." Not great, not great at all. This would give a racist crew an excuse to kick them off the ship—or worse—and even a more enlightened crew now knew they were deceiving them. His infuriatingly cool delivery made it hard to tell where he stood on that.

"She's got a good reason to keep us in the dark." That was the captain's voice, she was fairly certain. It had to be, the only other male voice. But, it was interesting. She hadn't chalked him up to much, but maybe he was more in command of the ship than she gave him credit for. "She's not a noble. She's a royal."

_That_ was even more unexpected, and Blake reeled hearing it. That was bad, very bad. That was a get-Yang-and-go-Plan-B bad situation. She had seen firsthand how good Ms. Nikos was with a rifle, and she had no doubt she was just as good in hand-to-hand combat. But with the speed the crew punched through their two most important deceits, the two members of the crew she and Yang assumed they'd rolled over in the first meeting, and now they've realized they had a _royal princess_ on board a ship they controlled.

"She's Winter Schnee," _What._ "And I don't know why she's here, why she's travelling incognito or why she, of all people's, travelling with a Faunus, but the fact that all three are _true_ tells me there's a much bigger story—the kind of thing where it's wisest to keep our heads down, finish the job, and take the money."

"How- How did… the crown princess of Atlas?"

"Heh, _really_ hard to mistake her." _Really?_ "My family once visited the Atlessian court and I, uh, kind of… had a huge crush on her?" Oh no, oh no, back to bad, Weiss was not going to like this. But better to have a weird misunderstanding with a weird guy who's willing to keep quiet than the other option.

"Wow." The engineer let out a low whistle, "Always forget that Our Fearless Leader's from a big-shot family."

"Still, judging from her entourage, they seem… prone to taking action."

"We can trust them." Ah, Ms. Nikos had decided to finally weigh in. There was something… both comforting and final to her voice. It allowed Blake's heart to reset. "They have a mission. Whatever it is, we should not interfere in it."

Well, that had been a rollercoaster of panic and relief. Blake slinked off as she reminded herself to breathe. She'd report this to Weiss and Yang, and give her honest opinion: if they're keeping their heads down, they should keep their own heads down. Live and let live. But there was definitely a warning to deliver: these weren't some backwater rubes led by an excitable and naive kid—they were good, and they needed to stay smart about this.

* * *

Ruby loved space travel for the excitement, from feeling the _thrum _of an overcharged engine, the G-forces of takeoff, of seeing planets go from "the ground" to tiny, glittering jewels. But what she still couldn't stand was sleeping on a ship. Her dad introduced her to space travel, short trips around the Patch system, mostly for resupply, after Yang ran off to join up with her birth mother. Losing her mom, then losing her sister a few years later, she just… couldn't not go with her dad when the alternative was staying home, alone. Then, Yang came back with a ship she didn't want to talk about, offered Ruby a position on her crew, and, well, now she was here. But the damage had been done, and that sense of inescapable loneliness had long since sunk deep in her bones, and when everyone else was asleep, it crept back out.

She ran her finger over a bench, pressing her finger into the cheap upholstery, feeling it slowly spring back into shape. The_ Juniper_ was a nice ship, an impressive ship, really, but she couldn't get comfortable in it. It was, ironically, too homey—in that it was clearly someone _else's_ home.

"Couldn't sleep?"

She turned to the voice, and saw the ship's creepy security chief standing in the doorway. Whatever it was about her that made Yang drool over this girl, Ruby couldn't see it. There was just something… off about her, like there was something, something invisible, but essential, missing from her. And she had a way of looking at her that made Ruby feel like she was constantly being watched for something. Worse, she hadn't seen her enter, and she couldn't tell how long she'd been standing there, watching her.

"I'm not used to the ship yet," she mumbled. "Takes a while."

"Is there anything I can do to help? Just let me know, I'm happy to help accommodate our guests."

Ruby just mumbled and scuffed her shoes on the floor. _Great going_, she thought_, now she thinks you're the total weirdo. Just stop being socially awkward and say something._

"Have you ever heard of the Order of the Maidens?"

Well, this was a weird turn for the conversation. Who hadn't heard of them? A secret society of warrior women with incredible powers, who travelled across the starways, fighting Grimm and saving settlements across fringe space. They were everything Ruby wanted to be since she was a little girl. One of the only memories Ruby still had of her mom was sitting outside, wrapped up in her arms, staring up at the stars and hearing stories of selfless heroism. The sort of hero she could be one day. "They're just a myth."

"A myth? Yes, that's true," she said, wistfully, "But nothing's ever _just_ a myth. Myths are the stories we tell ourselves to guide us, to try and become what isn't yet real. The Maidens believed—supposedly," she quickly added, "that people could attune to the energy of the galaxy, the Aura, and find inner peace through it." Her eyes took on a sad, rueful look, "I… don't know if there's any truth to that, but meditation like that might help you sleep."

"Thanks, but I kinda don't really _do_ meditation. Too much… sitting still, being quiet."

"Would you like me to guide you?"

It felt as though the air had been drawn from the room. Her tone was as though this wasn't a simple question, like it was a matter of life and destiny. _Stop being crazy, Ruby._ _She's just being helpful._

"…Okay."

"Please, sit down, make yourself comfortable."

"Do I need a mantra or something?"

She smiled, which Ruby could _tell_ was a warm and comforting smile, but there was just- just something _off_ about her. "You don't need a mantra. Just close your eyes, and try to quiet your mind."

"I'll try. No promises."

"That's all I can ever ask." What was _wrong_ with this girl? Or what was wrong with herself? Everything she was saying was perfectly normal and nice and everything and yet there was something in her mind that was just screaming _WRONG_ at her. "Try to clear your mind."

Easier said than done, lady.

"Start by focusing on your senses, what you're feeling. The feel of your clothes on your skin, the _thrum_ of the engine, the coolness of the air around you, and the faint movement of the atmosphere through the ship. Tune out the _hum_ of the circulator—attune yourself only to your sense of touch."

This was dumb. But she complied and gave it a shot. It wasn't unlike a game she used to play when she was bored on ships as a kid, trying to guess how well the engine was running just from the vibrations of the floor.

"Now that you've sensed the limits of your senses, draw it inward, find that most central part of yourself, and hold it tight within you." Weird, hokey, whatever, she complied. And then something, new and yet… so very familiar, _clicked._ "Now extend yourself outward, beyond the limits of yourself."

She… couldn't believe it. She felt back to the limits of her senses, the air, the floor she sat on, and then she seemed to keep going, past her own skin, past the metal walls of the room. She could feel a crackle of electricity buzzing back and forth around the engine that could only be Nora and, as she drew herself back to the cabins of the ship, a simmering, coiled tension wrapped around a quiet, inner worry—Yang? Everyone else must be asleep, but she could still feel faint _pulses_ of life in-

But then she felt something on the edge of her perception, like an ember slowly darkening its way across a sheet of paper, on the verge of becoming a flame. Far away, not on the ship, but gaining on them. She carefully turned her focus towards it.

**Y O U**

She staggered. The words weren't words, it was like the meaning was a lash against her mind itself!

** I SEE YOU**

She fell over, her eyes shot open and her senses snapped back to herself. The security chief caught her right before her head hit the floor. "Ruby!" she cried, "Are you alright?"

"I feel- it's- it's just… something _terrible_, just- it's so… _angry._" She swallowed hard. "And I, I can feel it coming closer."

"I'll alert the crew. Ruby, wake your companions." She looked at her and nodded. Whatever she'd been searching Ruby for, she had evidently found it. "Get ready. What you're describing… I've felt it before. We're in for a fight."

With no further explanation, she turned and raced to the cockpit.


	3. Down in Flames

**CW: Threat of torture.**

The cockpit was not built for seven, so Weiss stood with Ruby and Blake in the hallway outside, craning her neck to stay in the conversation. She was still groggy despite the surge of adrenaline, a little annoyed that Ruby woke her without apparently knowing _what_ the threat was, but at the same time, knew from her tone of voice that this wasn't a bad dream or a prank. Moreso, the crew of the ship seemed to be taking this unknown threat with absolute seriousness. She glanced at the ship's sensor instruments as a blue illumination crept onto the field.

The ship's navigator, a Mr. Ren, she believed, glanced at the display. "We've got a ship. Frigate class, bearing towards us. Judging from that, I'd say we've been spotted."

"Damn. Spent all that lien on sensor range and the very first ship we encounter outranges us." She'd taken Captain Arc as a buffoon from the first meeting, but in this moment, she very much appreciated his unserious, almost sarcastic tone. It spoke to a familiarity and confidence she very much lacked at the moment. "Well, that won't be-"

The cockpit was suddenly bathed in an orange light as a klaxon sounded. Even now, Weiss knew very little of spaceships, but this was a signal universally known, even to her: _Grimm._

"Okay, so they're being chased by Grimm? That… actually might be good for us. Let's pull in and-"

Mr. Ren fiddled with the sensors, sharpening the image on the display. "No, it's- There's only the one signal. I think the ship _is_ the Grimm"

A heavy silence fell across the cockpit. Weiss shot Ruby a nervous look. The crew of the _Juniper_ might never have encountered anything like this before, but they had. A frigate was far too small to be the ship Blake held the schematics to, but those schematics proved that it was possible to fuse a ship with Grimm matter, so long as one could command the monsters. And Weiss had personally encountered someone who could do exactly that.

In the dark, though, the navigator theorized blindly. "It could be a ship that's been half-infested, where the engines are still going, or… they're pirates who have completely lost their minds?"

"Whatever it is, it's bad news, and we are getting out of here." She heard the click of the intercom, "Nora, hit the overdrive, we are getting the hell out of here." She heard the great mechanical revving of the drive engine… only for it to putter out into nothing. "Nora?" A hint of panic had entered his voice. "What's happening, Nora?"

"I don't know!" her voice burst through the crackle of static, "Everything's in prime order, we just serviced everything, it's just not-"

"It's like something is holding it back."

"Uh, yeah, basically that."

Ms. Nikos's interjection had been an unsettling surprise to Weiss. She knew. What, exactly, she knew, and how she knew it, that was an unknown. But she was familiar with something only Weiss and her three companions should know about. It had the ring of a trap.

Mr. Ren didn't seem to have any reaction to Ms. Nikos's interjection—whether from personal experience or because he didn't really "do" reactions was yet beyond Weiss's knowing. "It's too big a ship for our deck gun to do anything other than keep it at bay—what's the call, Captain?"

Captain Arc paused to ponder his options, so Ms. Nikos beat him to the punch. "Send me over to the ship, I'll take out what's holding us back, then Nora ports me back onboard, and we jump."

Weiss had to interject, "You can't board a-" she halted for a second, reminding herself that them not knowing that she knew what she knew was her single best defense, "-a frigate. You're only one person!"

"Well, Pyrrha's something of a…" He shot her a crooked grin, some of his old cockiness back. "One-woman army. But Ms. Kristall's right—even for you, that's an unacceptable risk."

Ms. Nikos seemed to be about to say something, but Yang cut her off. "A boarding action, eh?" _No, Yang, no, you do _not_ leave my side right before a Grimm assault,_ "I've gotta stick with the boss," Weiss let out a sigh of relief, "but my sister…"

Ruby shoved Weiss and Blake aside to press into the cockpit. "I can totally fight! I've boarded ships before—Grimm infested _and_ otherwise!"

Weiss wanted to say something, to shoot down this obviously crazy idea. _You know who might be over there, Ruby!_ But at the same time, knowing who might be over there, and the memory, that feeling of overpowering helplessness made it clear to Weiss exactly why Ruby would go.

"We're running out of time, Jaune."

Even from outside the cockpit, she could feel the pained look he gave Ms. Nikos, but he came to his decision. "…Alright. You and Ruby, to the transport bay. Ren, aim the deflector shields and prep a route. The second those engines are back, I want to be out of here." He spun around to face them, "Any of you have any experience manning a deck gun?"

"I can handle that," Blake yelled over her shoulder, already heading out. In terms of fighting, there were very few things Blake didn't have at least some experience with.

Yang folded her arms across her chest. "And what've you got for us?"

"Do what you can. Deal with boarders." He shot them a cocky grin. "Stay alive."

* * *

Yang hadn't exaggerated: Ruby was an experienced boarder. She knew the drill, and she could appreciate that the _Juniper's_ teleport bay was as modified and overcharged as the rest of the ship. Odd choice for a smuggler vessel, but Captain Jaune's description of Pyrrha as "a one woman army" was very likely born out of experience. Even still, dedicating so much of a ship's resources towards a single woman's ability to incapacity an entire ship? Well, time to find out how good she actually was. She grabbed her emergency respirator, her transporter beacon, clicked her communicator into place, and entered the pod, Crescent Rose in hand, collapsed into its carrying form. She turned to see Pyrrha entering behind her, who glanced down at Crescent. "Your weapon?"

"Crescent Rose. Collapsible scythe."

She nodded, impressed, which gave Ruby a brief, exhilarated smile. She took considerable pride in her weapon, both for having built it herself and for being a skilled wielder of such an uncommon blade, and nothing put her in a better mood than someone recognizing her for it. She raised her short sword to her as she stepped into her teleport pod. "Miló, _Xiphos_ short sword."

"Prefer things a little old fashioned?"

She cracked a smile "Older than you'd believe." But as she spoke, Ruby felt the electric tingle of the teleporter activating, the brief feeling of weightlessness, and all of a sudden, the _snap_ of the teleport and the gentle _thump _as her legs absorbed the shock of the short drop to the floor. They were in a cargo bay, in a room with more Grimm than she'd ever seen in one place.

She deployed Crescent Rose, the scythe's enormous blade dwarfing her form. "Lllllllet's go!"

* * *

"Stick with me, princess, however this goes, it's gonna be a real fast fight."

There were enough competent fighters on the _Jupiter_ that they could hold their own against the Grimm, but Yang knew that if she and Weiss couldn't keep their numbers manageable, they'd quickly overwhelm the ship. Pulling a crewmember off their station would either slow them down or leave them open to fire from the frigate bearing down on them, and that would end the fight _real_ quick.

Good thing they knew how to handle this.

She heard the familiar metal _shing_ of Weiss drawing her sword. Myrtenaster was a good weapon, elegant and more expensive than most anything Yang had ever owned, but certainly not a decorative piece—it was a sharp, quick, and deadly blade. She also knew that Weiss was, though lacking the rest of the team's direct experience, a more than capable fighter, and one who'd proven herself against both sapients and Grimm.

She could see a dark shadow gathering in the middle of the room. _Well, here they come_. Might as well take the advantage while she had it—racing forward, she saw as the shadow condensed into a dark mass, with a white, skull-like head clotting into existence.

If that thing had thoughts, it was absolutely not expecting an immediate uppercut to what passed for its jaw, rocketing it straight into the ceiling, shattering against a steel plate. Like all Grimm, once the damage was done, it disintegrated back into black smoke.

"We're only getting the one freebie, so let's get going!"

* * *

Ruby's fighting style was made up of wild and powerful swings, where the momentum of Crescent Rose practically dragged her across the room as she flew from enemy to enemy, the heavy blade smashing through armor plates and digging deep into Grimm matter. It was a berserker style of fighting, the firmest proof she had that she was Yang Xiao-Long's sister, and she knew it left gaps in her defense that could be exploited. But every opening she gave up, it seemed that Pyrrha knew to be right there; sword already swinging to deflect or slash whatever Grimm attack was coming in. As Ruby whirled and spun, Pyrrha danced in her shadow, ducking and twirling as though they were long experienced partners. Crescent smashed across an Ursa's paws, flinging them off balance and creating an opening for Miló to expertly pierce it right in the neck. Pyrrha weaved back, tilting her head ever-so-slightly to dodge the scythe's blade coming back on another swing, tearing right through a Beowulf. And on and on they danced across the room.

It took only a few moments before the Grimm were ripped to shreds about them.

"You're a skilled fighter, Ruby."

She mumbled "Thanks," but felt uncomfortable with the compliment. Outside the heat of the battle, the nagging sense that nobody should be so skilled to be able to move in step with someone they'd never met before, especially a style as wildly dangerous as hers, returned. The woman still had the whisper of that unsettling void hanging around her, but it seemed to be almost fully ebbed away—was Ruby just getting used to her, or was something about her changing?

"It's this way." Ruby didn't have to ask how she knew, because she, too, could feel something drawing her down the hallway to a sealed door at the end. She could feel a presence behind it, dark and terrible and familiar. She tapped her fingers against the command console, only to be met with an angry buzz.

"Door's locked. I can breach it in-"

But with a wave of Pyrrha's hand, Crescent Rose (and the attached Ruby), was flung to the back of the hall. It slammed against the wall, and like magic, stuck there as Ruby tugged at it. Pyrrha pulled out her transport beacon and clicked on her communicator. "Nora, pull Ruby back. I'm going to resolve this, and you'll get the ship out. And I'm- I'm very sorry." Then, with a shower of sparks, her beacon burst apart in her hands.

Ruby heard Nora's voice in her ears, but her words were meaningless as she watched the door, with another motion of Pyrrha's hand, fly open. She turned, briefly, and said, "I'm sorry, Ruby."

Then she stepped inside, and the door slammed shut behind her.

* * *

_And watch your step and 1-2-3 and pivot and turn…_

Even against the savage fury of the Grimm, her form, long drilled into her and even longer practiced, came as natural to Weiss as breathing. Her style was impeccable, using the least amount of energy to alternate quick stabs and cuts to force an opening from her foe. And then, once the time was right, she gave an elegant sweep of Myrtenaster, as the Beowulf staggered backwards and fell, its severed head neatly dropping to the floor before disintegrating. "Hmph. Hardly a challenge, don't-"

She looked over to see Yang, gripping a Beowulf by the throat and smashing it into the pack's Alpha, both creatures crumpling against the hull and all three screaming bestially. _Showoff_. Yang was the only woman she'd ever known, the only woman she'd ever even _heard of,_ who fought Grimm in hand-to-hand combat. It was a testimony to both her intense strength and absolute, almost comical, disregard for her own safety. As if to underscore that point, Yang pumped her fist in a sign of victory and threw her head back, letting loose that awful war cry from her pirate days, supposedly based on a Nevermore's scream. Even now, it unsettled her—she couldn't imagine what it was like for her enemies.

She heard Blake's voice on the ship's intercom, "Ship's deploying Griffons—I'm holding them off, but we're running out of time, here!" That was the real threat—if spaceborne Grimm could reach them with their engines down, it didn't matter how well they were fighting in here; they were surely doomed.

_Come on, Ruby, _she hoped, _we're all counting on you._

* * *

With a _click_, Crescent Rose detached from the hull, dropping to the floor with a clatter. Ruby slumped to the ground with it. She felt tears well up and she fought to banish them back down. This wasn't fair. She was used to being dismissed as the kid sister, the fragile teenager who lacked the strength or maturity to really contribute to the fight. She'd done everything she could to prove she was tough enough, that she could be a part of the team. And now this strange woman, who clearly saw _something_ within her, was going to fight the woman Ruby vowed revenge on. She was being left behind.

Her communicator crackled to life. "Ruby! What's going on?"

"Pyrrha just… I don't know, she went on without me!"

"Do we… should I port you back?"

"No." That was the question she needed, the answer to bring her back to her senses. She wasn't a child anymore, she wasn't going to be left behind. "I'll signal you when to port us—the _both _of us," she added, emphatically, "-back. But don't grab me until then."

Everything her dad had ever told her about anger and control mounted a feeble defense, but Ruby knew that now was not the time to be listening to reason. She couldn't—she _wouldn't_—be left behind, not now, not here, when she knew what lay behind that door. She felt her eyes burn and a dark, potent anger surge up from deep inside her. She focused on it, finding strength in her refusal to concede. The door was jammed—whatever power Pyrrha had to open the door had evidently shorted out the console. But it didn't matter. The console didn't matter, the hidden breaching charges she kept on hand didn't matter. All that mattered was her anger and Crescent.

She practically flew down the hall, moving with a speed, grace, and ferocity she'd never felt before. She hefted her scythe and, at full charge, brought its weight against the door, which groaned as it stoved in. Not yet enough, she panted and raised her weapon for another blow. The frame creaked mightily in protest as the dull backside of Crescent's blade thundered against it. On the third blow, the scythe tore right through it. The door crumpled from the hit and burst through its frame, flying into the room.

Ruby blinked, her eyes hurting, like there was an intense pressure and heat behind them, but she forced herself to stand strong and look about the room. It couldn't have been much more than a minute since Pyrrha had left Ruby behind, but in that time, there had clearly been a swift, intense battle. Scorch marks covered the room, and small gouts of flame leapt from the walls. But she could see that Pyrrha had not won her fight. She was collapsed on the floor, crumpled, with barely the strength to raise her sword. Standing over her, flames swirling around her, was a woman she recognized.

Cinder Fall.

* * *

_Even without struggling, the restraints cut into her arms. Ruby took in a deep breath and grit her teeth—this was a time for heroism. Heroism in all its ugly, messy, painful reality. She looked Cinder dead in the eye with all the confidence she could muster. She'd have spit at her face, if she knew how to spit._

_"I'll ask one last time, Princess," she turned to Weiss, frozen in fear and gripped tightly by one of the White Fang soldiers, "Simply answer my question and you won't have to hear what happens next. Tell me: Where are the plans?"_

_She held up her hand, which burst into flame, and then lowered it, incrementally closer to Ruby's face. She knew she had to be strong, had to not betray any of her fear, so that Weiss knew that she could be strong, too. She tried to look away, but her eyes betrayed her, unable to look away from the light and the heat that was getting stronger and closer._

_"You're a bold woman, Princess, but I know you're not heartless. It must be difficult to watch one of your companions in these circumstances. Don't worry; this won't kill her. Though I'm told the pain is… excruciating."_

_Weiss's knees buckled, her face frozen in a mask of horror, but Ruby could see her eyes watering and her lips trembling and knew that she was on the cusp of breaking. "Weiss! No matter what, don't tell her anything!"_

* * *

With a snarl of hate, of anger, of a resolute unwillingness to ever again accept being so helpless, Ruby let all of her fury pour out as she leapt to strike at the woman. But she was fast, far too fast, and nimbly dodged Crescent's blade, which shrieked as it tore through the metal floor. The woman, with that awful smirk, raised both of her hands and called up a torrent of flames to encircle her, a roaring inferno that raised to a tremendous height, like a an uncoiling snake, ready to come crashing down. _Doesn't matter. Not enough._

A surge of white light, her despair and her rage and her fear put into the world, burst out of her, blasting a shocked Cinder across the room. Her body slammed into the far wall of the ship and rolled to the ground. Wounded, vulnerable, stunned—but not dead. Not yet dead. Ruby snarled as she readied the weight of her scythe.

A crackle of static buzzed in her ear. "Ruby! The engines are going! Is Pyrrha okay? Can we pull you back?"

The voice was something from somewhere, something she had to do? And wasn't there someone who- _Pyrrha!_

She snapped to her her communicator, "You can't! Not yet!" then shot straight to where Pyrrha was lying, burnt, badly burnt, but still breathing. She wrapped her arms around the girl and practically screamed into her communicator, "OKAY, NOW!"

She felt the tingling weightlessness of the beacon activating, then, with a _snap_, she collapsed on the floor of the _Juniper._

* * *

Nora hadn't lied. When the engines were fired up, it really did feel like the ship was about to explode. Weiss had fallen flat on her butt, which had been funny, but they were out of danger now, or relatively so. Now it was time for Yang to purge the adrenaline, let her heart start beating again, and breathe a sigh of relief that they were alive.

Well, some more alive than others. She hadn't seen her, but from Ruby and Weiss's description, Pyrrha had come damn close to biting it over there. Cinder Fall… she and Blake had fought her, very briefly, when they had to rescue Weiss and Ruby. It was barely even a fight, just a couple explosions, for distraction and to breach the door, then grab Ruby and Weiss and bolt. But even in those few seconds, while Cinder was choking on a smoke grenade, she'd managed to blast them with a jet of fire, which, if they hadn't ever-so-narrowly dodged around a corner, would probably have incinerated the lot of them. And Pyrrha had apparently not only known what she was going up against, but also apparently believed she was capable of matching that? Who was this girl? Was she crazy or incredibly skilled or just had a death wish? _Well_, she mused, _at least one mystery has been solved_. Before the engines had even finished rattling the ship, she saw their gallant captain rocket past them to the teleporter bay with the speed and singleminded purpose of a captain coming for a crewmember who was a lot more than a crewmember.

Explained what Pyrrha was doing on this ship.

She smiled at that thought. It was cute, in a way, made her feel like tracking down Blake, complimenting her gunnery skills, and seeing where the night took them. But as she headed to the cabin Blake and Ruby shared, she practically stumbled right into Mr. Ren. She felt the brief, electric tension in the air, and with it, a stab of guilt. One of his crewmates was badly burned by the woman who had been following them—sure, he didn't know she was after them, but Yang knew, and that was enough to make her feel guilty.

She decided to approach with a mask of cheer. "Ah, some real nice work today, eh, Mr. Ren?"

"Just Ren is fine," he said softly, "I… I feel I must apologize for any danger we might have put your client in, I-"

She cut him off. "It's not, it's…" she sighed. The old part of her, her mother's part of her, told her to take the advantage of this moment of weakness, to establish her dominance and eliminate a potential threat.

But there was another part of her, the part that Ruby, Weiss, and Blake had helped her discover, the part that told her that there was strength, not weakness, in openness and grace. "We… may have gotten off on the wrong foot yesterday. This was always going to be a dangerous mission, and we knew that, and we hired you because we thought you'd keep us alive from things like this. Which you did. You guys… you're a good crew."

He shared a smile with her. Weak, but genuine. "And you look out for your friends."

She was about to correct him with _clients_, but from what Blake had told her last night, kid was perceptive enough that he'd see through that lie. "Yeah. Hey, from my old crew, it was kind of customary to, uh, once you'd survived a fight together, you were real crew now, like, real bonded and all, and we usually shared a drink to commemorate it. Do you have…"

He smiled, much stronger now. "We do keep a bottle of gin in the kitchen."

"Wait, gin? Because of _Juniper_?" He nodded, as tears sprang up in Yang's eyes. "Oh man, puns. Oh, how I've missed those! You guys are alright!"

**To clarify something, the characters have been aged-up to better fit the scene. I don't have hard-and-fast numbers, but I see the order of ages being Pyrrha-Yang-Jaune (mid twenties), Blake-Nora-Ren (early twenties), Weiss is stated to be 20 in the first chapter, and Ruby is still a teenager. This means that the characters are coming into this story midway through their own adventures: Yang's a seasoned ex-pirate, Pyrrha's obviously got a secret backstory, and Jaune's finished a few years at the Academy. But they're still all young people, with less than a decade gap between Pyrrha and Ruby's age. You might also have noticed that that means Yang misjudged Jaune's age in chapter one: it's partly because he's just a fairly boyish person, partly because Yang underestimates him. Yang is extremely confident in her ability to read people, provided you ignore all the times she's been wrong.**


	4. Trust and History

**CW: Trauma Flashback**

"Alright, so, if you keep the ship on the edge of the gravitational declension like that, you should be able to keep your momentum up and save on fuel."

"Like this?"

Jaune had evidently decided that teaching Ruby how to pilot a ship would be a good weapon against boredom. Fine by Yang, who chewed on a slice of bread while absentmindedly watching them. This was good stuff, and not even by the standards of ship travel, where "flavor" and "not cardboard" was a luxury. She'd woken up and staggered into the ship's kitchen, to see a note telling the passengers there was fresh-baked bread, family recipe, in the warmer (along with six notes for Nora, saying she could only have one slice). _He bakes bread, he's good with Ruby, and he's got the stuff to keep Pyrrha happy? _Maybe she should make a move and get in on this. Spacers weren't particularly known for monogamy, and maybe Pyrrha wouldn't be too offended if she inquired. Or maybe she should wait until she was out of medbay? This was one of those thorny etiquette questions, only she couldn't expect Weiss to have an answer. And Blake would probably get mad at her too, if she asked. That girl just needed to finally get honest with her feelings, this whole would-they won't-they thing they had going on was very much not Yang's cup of tea. Cups of tea were not Yang in general.

She was jolted out of her tea musings as the whole cockpit rumbled angrily.

"What happened! What'd I do?"

"It's okay, it's okay!" Jaune quickly flipped a few switches, and the rumbling died down. "You just took it a little too fast. Let's try it again, a little more slowly."

"This is why I never let you fly the _Qrow_," she teased. Though she had to admit, she was impressed that Jaune was willing to let Ruby learn piloting on his ship as a kindness. A ship as customized as this, built for sudden, nearly unmatched bursts of speed, it had to be pretty easy to mess something up. She heard the hiss of the door and glanced to see Ren entering the cockpit. A quick look around the room seemed to answer all his questions, so with a put-upon sigh, he took a seat next to Yang.

"The _Qrow?_ What, were you trying to trick people into thinking you were with the Branwen gang?"

Well, that was a sore point. "…named it after my uncle, what's it to ya? And how do you all know about the Branwen gang?"

Ren shrugged, "Just enough to keep an eye on their territory and stay a good ways out of it. In our line of work, you keep an eye on who has an interest in taking cargo and where they are."

"They've been quiet recently," Jaune added, while signaling to Ruby to loosen her grip on the helm. "Last I heard, they'd turned… dark, after either their leader killed her own daughter in a power struggle, or her daughter killed her." Jaune's words put a chill through Yang. He hadn't even looked up, focused on guiding Ruby, completely unaware of exactly who he was speaking to. _So that's the story they're telling, eh?_

Their discussion was fortunately interrupted as a blue light lit up on the long-range sensor display. Big one, cruiser class, Yang assumed. Ren fiddled with the controls, bringing the blue blur into focus. He inspected it carefully. "Definitely a cruiser, and… Valean from the looks of it. They're a long ways from home."

"Ah, this is awkward." Jaune got up from his seat and motioned towards her. "Yang, would you mind taking the helm and flying casual? Ren'll cover the talking, but I'm kind of, uh, wanted for, uh, _several _crimes in Valean space."

"Ooh, dark and mysterious past?" She moved up to take the helmsman's seat from her sister.

"Nothing that dramatic. I _am_ a professional smuggler, you know. We'd normally use Pyrrha for this, but-"

Ren gestured to a yellow light that had lit up on the console. "They're hailing us, Jaune."

And with that, Jaune was out of the room, with Ruby now slouching halfway in a passenger seat, obviously unsure if she should leave or not. The viewscreen clicked on to reveal a neatly dressed, though somewhat round-looking, young officer at his station. Some noble family's brat, fresh out of the Academy and sent on a trash patrol mission on the fringes, probably to clear out some minor Grimm and remind the regional pirates and smugglers to keep their profile low.

"Howdy, crew of… the _Juniper,_" he read off his display. "I'm Lt. Bronzewing, communications officer for the _General Lagune_. Just wanted to give you a friendly hail and let you know we've been encountering some Grimm-infested craft in the region—do be careful out here."

It was more-or-less the boilerplate courtesy she'd expect from any Kingdom ship, nothing to write home about. But the reply never came. The unsettling silence continued as she shot a "what are you _doing_" look towards Ren, only to see something incredibly surprising. The man who she mostly knew for his infuriating calmness seemed to be literally _trembling_. The lieutenant was about to notice something was up, so now was the time for decisive action. "Hello _General Lagune!_ Sorry about the delay, we're having a few issues with our comms display."

All that needed to be said, really. They exchanged a few pleasantries, and, politeness upheld, they both said their goodbyes, and the connection cut out. _What was that all about?_ she thought, as Jaune rushed back in to check on Ren.

"It's… it's his ship. He's _here_, Jaune." He sounded, even though she couldn't bring herself to really believe it, to be almost to the brink of tears. This, from the guy who barely even started to slur while keeping pace with her drinking straight gin!

"We don't know he's there." He noticed the inquisitive look Yang shot him, and sighed. "The ship's not Valean Navy. It's a cruiser for the Duchy of Montglenn." As though that explained anything. One of Vale's less… charming regions, and, from Blake's description, particularly less charming for Faunus, but that didn't give Yang much explanation. She gave a more probing expression. "We've got a history." In a way, that actually did clear everything up. "History," even unspecified, carried a lot of meaning to Yang. He turned to his First Mate. "Just… get to Nora. I'll get us out of here; you've done your part."

Ren exited, and Jaune practically collapsed into his chair. "Long story?" she asked, and he nodded. Well, it didn't seem like the sort of secret that'd endanger Weiss or the mission—avoiding state ships was already part of the plan, and, as Jaune noted, people in his line of work generally had criminal records: either driving them to become smugglers or from the smuggling itself. And she was still smarting a little from her earlier paranoia. Unsettling, though, to see a man so stoic be so clearly shaken by recognizing a ship.

It'd barely been a minute before Yang noticed that the blue light on the display had stopped receding. She fiddled with it, sharpening the clarity and checked the engine bearings. _Ahhhhhh, hell._ "Heads up captain," she signaled to Jaune, "They're coming back around for us."

"Hell." _Amen_. "Well, it's not built for speed, and we are." He clicked the intercom, "Nora, we need to make a quick exit!" Silence. "Nora? Ren? Guys, we need-"

The incoming transmission light clicked on and a smug, menacing figure filled the viewscreen. He had an aristocratic sneer and too many medals—the amount that, coupled with his being in the boonies, suggested a privileged and pampered time in the service, a short, safe career in the field, followed by a comfortable, prestigious position, or a future in politics. "Oh Jauney-boy!" he said in an awful, sing-song cadence, "Been a long time hasn't it? Haven't seen you since you got me kicked out of-"

The picture cut to black with a _click._ "I'd keep him ranting, but…" a wave of seething anger swiftly washed over his face before he was able to mask it. "Ruby—we need to overcharge the engines, but I've got no power. Go back there and check on Ren and Nora. I'd- they might need your help."

She nodded and shot off. Yang glanced at the display—the ship was clearly moving into a firing position. "Whatcha want me to do, coach?"

"Take control of the deflector shields!" Jaune replied, "He's a sadist, so he'll definitely be aiming for our life support," he jerked the ship to the right, a laser shrieking past their viewscreen. Someone was damn eager to see them die.

She took up the shield controls. "How do you _know_ this guy?"

"Cardin Winchester, former commanding officer. Who I shot, once. Kind of most of my crimes right there."

"Ah, yeah, I've been there." A near miss exploded against the deflector shields, her display lighting up from the overcharge. "Have you started thinking about dodging? You flew a hell of a lot better against the Grimm!"

"Trust me, I know this guy! He's a sadist, to his crew as much as anyone else. He's seeing near-misses and he's getting madder and his gunners _know_ he's getting madder, and-"

"And so they're making mistakes." Her piratical experience had taught her the supreme value of psychological warfare in a broadside. _Make fear your weapon_, she remembered, _and no ship can defend against you._

A bolt of laser fire streaked past the ship. The strategy was working, for now, but she knew that, like with the Grimm ship, their speed advantage came from overcharging the engines. With that out, a cruiser wouldn't take all that long to catch up with them, and once they closed the gap, and bring in their full battery of guns, it wouldn't matter what psychological edge they had.

* * *

Ruby raced to the engine room with a special urgency. Yeah, there was a gunship bearing down on them, but even more so, she felt a charge to live up to the expectations Captain Jaune had of her. She already felt a special bond with the crew of the _Juniper_. Pyrrha was… she didn't know what she thought about Pyrrha, and Ren was a quiet guy who weirdly got along with her sister, but she already felt an intense kinship with Nora as an engineer, and Captain Jaune hadn't been anything like her sister as he guided her through the basics of flying. She knew she had earned Yang, Blake, and even Weiss's respect, but she knew what they thought of her was still colored by those first impressions. Here, though, she was nothing other than a competent and capable young woman, the sort you could entrust on a matter of critical urgency!

She flung herself through the door, and almost toppled off her feet as she froze to the sight that greeted her. Ren and Nora stood in the center of the room, clutching each other, obviously paralyzed with fear. Nora's eyes were squeezed shut, her head buried in her companion's chest as though it could hide her. Ren held her, but his eyes were empty, unfocused, his face frozen in a rictus of horror.

"Nora! Ren!" She hoped yelling might be enough to snap them out of it, "We have to go, _now!_" They only gripped each other tighter. She took a softer voice, "Nora, please, we need you to work the engines."

"C-can't," Nora sobbed into Ren's chest, "I can't do it. They'll catch us, and then, and then-" she burst into tears.

So what now? Tell them they'd be okay? Tell them they were safe, they were in a spaceship, and not… wherever they thought they were? No, that wouldn't work. Mentally, neither of them was here right now, and wherever they were, it wasn't a place where "escape" was an option. She had to get them back to the now.

Ruby knew she could stand up to Cinder, she could fight the Grimm or the White Fang or an army of pirates, but this, this she had no ideas on. Yang would probably solve this by grabbing someone and shaking them. Weiss would make a big, grand speech about overcoming fears or something. And Blake would… Blake would probably be just as bad at Ruby at this, which made her feel a little better but was very much not helpful at the moment. Her mom had always been the one to talk her through her fears, but she wasn't… No, she could do this. She'd been given all the guidance she would need.

"Okay, listen," she started, hoping against hope this would work, "It's okay to be scared. There's a lot to be afraid of in the galaxy, and you've… clearly seen that," _please work please work please work_, "And I'm not going to ask you to pretend it isn't. But I need you to help walk me through what I have to do to get Captain Jaune the engine power he needs. Can you do that for me?"

Nora gave her a hesitant, frightened nod and stammered, "Y-you have to decouple the- decouple the auxiliary lines from board." Simple enough, and under Nora's continuing, though hesitant, guidance, Ruby moved quickly to walk the engine through its overcharge process, flipping switches, moving cables, and the other warranty-voiding steps it took.

Even in a moment of crisis, both in terms of mortal danger and extremely tense emotional situations she was _not equipped to deal with_, Ruby couldn't help but appreciate the subtle ingenuity of Nora's engine—it wasn't just that she had managed to cram this much power into such a small ship, everything, top to bottom, had been brilliantly customized. However, the price of this was a massive sacrifice of safety standards.

A surge of power resulted in a blue bolt of electricity striking her across her forearm. She staggered, then fell. She felt her left arm dangle uselessly at her side, numbed by the blow. She struggled to force herself back up, but she could _feel_ the electricity that suffused the air and knew that if she even stood up, another jolt would knock her back down. Useless. After all that, useless.

Her eyes blurred with tears until she felt a hand on her arm and, in her ear, a soft voice. "Thank you, Ruby. I've got it from here." Nora Valkyrie stood up and walked into the thunderstorm the engine room had become. Her hair stood on end and sparks flew about her as she flipped switches and attached cables. Electricity seemed to almost arc _through_ her, like she herself was a live wire. She hit a final switch, and with a tremendous roar, all of the engines turbines fired.

The intercom came to life, though she barely heard it over the engines. "Ladies and gentleman, _Miss! Nora! Valkyrie!_" and with that, the thrusters _screamed_ as the ship tore forward in space.

But Ruby hardly noticed. "How…" she murmured, no other words coming to mind.

Nora, emotionally exhausted, apparently smoking, and bracing herself against the console, jabbed her thumb at the hammer-and-thunderbolt patch on her back, and the words encircling them: _HAMMER WIZARD._

* * *

Jaune Arc was not a great captain, and nobody knew that fact better than Jaune Arc. He was an adequate helmsman, with half a cadet's training and a few dirty tricks, and he wasn't terrible at crew management. But he was a lousy business manager without Ren and hopeless at maintaining a ship without Nora. But as he flew across the length of his ship to the engines, there was one aspect of captainship even he would admit he was good at: care for his crew.

The door had barely finished opening as he ducked into the engine room and threw his arms around his friends. He didn't know what Ruby had done, but it had worked. Words failed him, so he poured all the gratitude he could into a look, which evidently hit home from how fiercely the girl blushed.

Ren whispered to him, "I think… I think we should give them the full story."

* * *

For the first time since the start of the trip, they were all gathered in a single room to talk. Though that wasn't true, Jaune corrected himself. Pyrrha was still in medbay—she'd recovered considerably, but she was still weak enough that he couldn't bring himself to drag her out into a meeting. He glanced around the room. Winter and Yang were seated together on a couch, their body language couldn't be more different, but their eyes had the same, focused intensity that cut right through him. Ruby, who, apparently, was going to continue blushing, and the final member of their group were both seated at the chess table. Ren was seated and Nora slouched against the wall next to him—both with a painfully subdued air about them. It'd been at least a year since their last episode, and he hadn't seen one this forceful since before Pyrrha came aboard.

"It's been an unexpectedly eventful trip, but I think… I think we can trust each other," he started, attempting to emulate the authoritative tone of his Academy instructors. "That ship was an official ship of a Valean Duchy commanded by one Cardin Winchester. His… _hostility_ towards us was due to an encounter we had while we were being held in a prison labor camp in Montglenn."

The quiet, dark haired girl whose name he couldn't quite recall let out a low whistle. "You were in the Montglenn camp? From what I'd heard, that place was a living hell."

"I still have nightmares," Nora quietly added, in a tone and gravity that sent a knife into Jaune's heart.

It killed him to ever see Nora without her usual happy-go-lucky smile. He blinked away a few tears he hadn't even realized were forming and continued. "I was part of a slave uprising that escaped the prison, and-"

"Jaune _led_ a slave uprising." Well, thanks for that spotlight. Ren was evidently not going to let him play it cool on this.

Winter—"Ms. Kristall," he corrected—cut in, "Slavery? But Vale's a signatory to the Intergalactic Sapient Rights Accord?"

"And the Valean Royal Navy enforces that accord. But its not like Atlas—their influence is very limited in certain sectors. And it's not _officially_ slavery if they can call it prison labor. But if you keep indefinitely extending their release date and arrest them for…"

"The crime of being Faunus," added the woman-he-wasn't-supposed-to-know-was-Faunus.

"Exactly. And so you have what we had in Montglenn. I was sent there as a training exercise as a cadet, and when I realized what was going on, I…"

"He reported it to his commanding officer." Ah, yes. As always, there was an artful, diplomatic way of telling the story, and there was Ren's way.

"…You mean the guy who just tried to kill us?" And there went Ruby's respect.

"Yeah," he felt the embarrassment rush to his cheeks, "Cardin. Whose, uh, whose dad was the Duke of Montglenn." Eight eyes stared right through him, unable to fully process what he was saying. "I was still in the Academy! I kinda just… thought we were all the good guys, you know? So I got thrown in prison, where I met Ren and Nora. We teamed up with some of the Faunus prisoners, pooled our knowledge-"

Ren cut him off. "You're selling yourself short, Jaune," and his tone was clear he'd brook no disagreement. "We'd been in there for months before you, and a week after you met us, we were free."

"And that's why we'll follow our Fearless Leader to the edge of the world!" Nora grew contemplative. "Which, I suppose, we frequently do. Being in a spaceship and all."

He felt his cheeks grow even more heated, but this was a much better kind of embarrassment. He never deserved a crew as good as he had, the friends he loved so dearly. "Well, however we were to say it, we launched a mass breakout and stole-" he affectionately patted the ship's hull, "-this baby, which we named the _Journeyer_… except Nora immediately forgot."

"If you liked the name so much, you should have written it down!"

"Nora, it was _your_ suggestion-" he caught himself. There was no winning this argument. "Well, that's our story. We've been hauling freight and passengers on the down low ever since." Now, time to take a risk. He looked at the four women in the room. The quiet Faunus girl and Winter sat primly and attentively, Ruby practically vibrated at the edge of her seat, and Yang was more draped across her chair, but all four had an intense, focused gaze on him. "I don't know how much you trust us. Whatever you're involved in, it's not our business, and it seems important enough that I know trusting us would be a risk. But we're committed to seeing you through this trip, and we'll help you however we can."

Winter's gaze was painfully unreadable. But slowly rose and began to speak. "I…"

"It's a thrilling tale, of adventure and betrayal and this hot, sexy bodyguard and her-"

"_YANG!_" she sounded impressively scandalized before correcting her tone, "I am… not a minor Atlessian noblewoman. I am the Crown Princess of Atlas, Weiss Schnee."

Wait, _what_?

"As I understand it, you seem to have seen through our deception, but have confused me with my older sister." It clicked. She did seem younger than she ought to be, but he had chalked that up to the fact he'd only really met her the once, and his memory might have been faulty. He couldn't tell from her tone if she was annoyed or okay with the confusion, though. _Oh gods, _he realized, _if they know that, it means they'd heard me, and if they'd heard me…_ If they knew about his crush, he resolved to promptly throw himself out an airlock.

"So you've got a royal princess, two ex-pirate sisters, and Blake here," Yang gestured towards the Faunus girl, who revealed her concealed second set of ears, "is a defector from the White Fang."

So. Half of their analysis had been correct, though admittedly more Ren's than his. But the question still remained, as Ren vocalized. "If you're willing to let us into your confidence," his voice measure, words carefully chosen. "What brings all of you together?"

Blake glanced to her fellows, and, after silent conference, took the initiative. "We're on a mission of the highest priority. I left the Fang after I discovered that we were working with Cinder Fall, the woman who incapacitated your crewmember, and that they were building a superweapon," she paused to give her words weight, "the _Basilisk._" The name, acrid and unpleasant, hung in the air. "A massive ship that amplifies the powers Cinder used against us—it somehow turns a ship's engines against itself, which would absolutely incapacitate larger ships, then leave them helpless to be overwhelmed by the Grimm she can command."

Everyone took a moment to contemplate the threat it posed—the power to render capital ships helpless and consumed by Grimm would create an intergalactic panic. It was Nora who broke the silence. "I don't get it," she said, "If you've got all the evidence of this kingdom-destroying superweapon, why not tell Vale or Mistral about it? Why go all the way to Atlas all top-secret? I mean, it's incredibly cool to go undercover and we should totally do this all the time, but isn't it a little bit… risky?"

Blake nodded. "Kingdom authorities aren't going to listen to a Faunus in general, especially not one with my history. With the backing of an Atlessian princess, though, doors open up. But a princess out of place…"

Weiss finished her thought. "My political situation makes an unauthorized meeting with a foreign power risky. The Kingdoms are currently at peace, but that peace is maintained less by mutual respect and understanding, and more by no side having significant advantage. A hostage of considerable value could destabilize that peace, and we have reason to suspect that Cinder Fall has agents currently working to sow discord in order to weaken the Kingdoms in advance of revealing her hand."

"So you can't trust anyone other than your own Kingdom," Ren finished, "and so we need to-"

"We're going to save the entire galaxy!" Ruby literally leapt into the conversation, pumping a fist into the air, and then pointing right at Jaune. "And we're going to do it with your help!"

"We are asking more of you and your crew, Captain Arc, than we revealed when we first hired you." It was hard to believe that this tiny girl could sound so magisterial, but she had the voice of an experienced commander. _Guess there's something to royalty, there._ "Cinder Fall, the White Fang, and any number of their agents are against us. I ask you again, will you deliver us to Atlas?"

Well, this was the moment of truth. No one could reasonably fault him for declining to take them any further—after all, one of their very dangerous and well-equipped enemies had tracked them down and severely injured one of his crew. But didn't that answer the question? One of their enemies was Pyrrha's enemy, even if Pyrrha wouldn't yet tell him what history she had with this "Cinder Fall." And really, they weren't going to find a ship faster or more evasive than the _Juniper_, not easily. And how could he face Nora after abandoning Ruby, or Ren after abandoning Yang? That last one was kind of surprising, but before last night, he'd never once heard Ren sing, much less that he could sing _really well_. But honestly, there was only one reason that really made his decision for him. "Didn't I tell you? I said I'd get you there. And an Arc," he cracked a wry grin, "never goes back on his word!"

* * *

**END OF ACT 1**

* * *

**Act 1 Coda**

_I deserve this_.

She was reclined in the medbay, feeling the itch and sting of her burns as the medtech slowly healed her wounds. In the past, she had the power to heal wounds like these as a trifle, a power she still had, except…

She deserved this. She deserved far more than this. The universe had extracted its fee, but the debt remained unpaid.

Her friends—and the words stung to imagine, to be so selfish to surround herself with such good people, to endanger them—insisted that she was innocent, that she didn't need to risk her life on the ship. Nora had to be restrained by Ren to keep her from shaking her, demanding to know what she was thinking. The fear and grief and pain in her eyes drove a wedge of guilt into her heart that hurt far, far more than the injuries she'd received from Cinder. And Ren, as always, a man of few words but piercing insight, had simply told her that whenever she felt ready to talk about it, they'd always be there for her.

And then Jaune… he had held her in his arms, just held her, and murmured _you don't have to do this to yourself,_ and that dark, terrible voice inside her told her that she could just accept it. Take his kindness, live the life he offered, to run away from her past for a life of companionship, of… She knew she only had to ask, and he'd give her what she so dearly desired. But she knew where that voice led. To darkness. To fire. She had a destiny, a place the universe was inexorably leading her by subtle paths.

The doors opened with a swift _hiss_. She needn't look up. She already knew who it was. But politely, she raised her head to look her destiny in the eye.

Ruby Rose stood at the door, a resolved look, silver eyes blazing with determination.

"What do you know about the Order of the Maidens?" An echo of herself, in so many ways.

It would be easy enough to lie. To deflect, to keep her away from this. She knew better than anyone where those answers led. For all she deserved, to answer her question would be to do something even worse.

But none of that mattered. There was simply no other choice.

"Enough. So go ahead. Ask. I'll answer."


	5. A Man of Honor

"Ruby!" Yang choked out, "You trai… tor…"

"She is allowed!" Nora shouted, tightening her chokehold. "To cheer for _whoever_ she wants!"

As Ruby _eeped_ an apology, Ren murmured to Pyrrha, "I'm more curious where she got that pennant flag." He didn't know if she had just made a "NORA" pennant much earlier in the trip, in case she might need it, or if she was just extremely good at quick arts and crafts. The fight, though, that was a given. He had concluded that a wrestling match between the two was inevitable after learning that Yang fought Grimm bare-handed. He never thought he'd encounter another woman with the same impulsiveness and raw physical strength as Nora, but once he had, he knew a fight was not long away. Better to burn off aggression directly, at least, especially on a flight that'd be as tense as this one.

Ren respected Yang in a way he reserved only for those he'd gotten drunk with. And he would give her this: she held her liquor well, though the bodyguard had gotten increasingly less subtle in her innuendo as the bottle got lower, until she reached the point of just asking, "Are you and Nora-" and making a hand gesture that was too clumsy to make sense, but very obviously intended to be crude. He deflected, like he did on all questions between his and Nora's relationship. What they had was what they had, and neither of them were interested in anything else.

"Nora's fighting well, but…" Pyrrha's eyes scanned the scene, quickly and analytically, "No, Yang has the fight. You'll see."

And as though she was waiting for a signal, as soon as Pyrrha finished speaking, Yang seemed to find her footing, springing into a half backflip that slammed Nora against the floor. Undeterred, she maintained her grip around Yang's neck, but Yang only used that to thrash her against the ground. At last, Nora cried uncle. "Alright! Alright! I give!"

The two broke apart, both sprawled out along the floor, panting and exhausted. Ren knew this was also an inevitability, so he had prepared two glasses of water in advance, which he offered to the girls, who, too tired to talk, thanked him with a nod. He returned to the bench and looked to Pyrrha. "You had a good talk with Ruby?"

This earned a raised eyebrow. "How'd you know about that?"

"Deduction. You've been keeping an eye on her since she boarded, you had no objections to her boarding with you _in spite of your plans_, and now you seem to, well," he searched for the precise phrase to use, "you seem to have found what you were looking for. You're much less tense, as well."

"You don't miss much, do you?" She leaned back and smiled. In spite of her compliment, Pyrrha was still a woman of many mysteries to Ren. She was a dear friend; he very much appreciated her as a level-headed perspective to balance out Jaune, and especially Nora's, more impulsive ideas. But he still didn't know all that much about her: what she was doing on that forested moon Jaune found her on, how she became as skilled as she was, or what she really wanted out of her time on the _Juniper_. Ren understood keeping things close to your chest, but at the same time, she seemed like someone in desperate need of opening up.

"You haven't answered my question."

She gave him one of her serene, mysterious smiles… for a few seconds, before she was overcome with snickering. "I'm sorry, have to keep up my image of the enigmatic warrior woman." She leaned forward, "I can't really talk about it yet. It's… something deeply personal to Ruby, and…" she looked away, "it's something I still have to figure out myself. I hate leaving you and Nora and Jaune in the dark like this—I _hate_ it!" Her voice cracked with sudden emotion, "But you'll get an answer, soon."

She was interrupted as Jaune entered from the hall. "Hey guys, I-" he saw the two brawlers sprawled on the floor, "-is this something I need to…" Ren, Pyrrha, and Ruby all shook their heads _no_. Jaune knew Nora; Jaune knew what to expect. "Okay, good, because we've really stressed our fuel reserves from going on overdrive and we need to refuel." Strangely pragmatic for Jaune, who typically waited until they were scraping just above Empty to even think about refueling. Perhaps he was inspired by the recent encounter to strive to be a better Captain, to take his role with the professionalism Ren always knew he was capable of. "And we're just a little ways out from Torchwick station!"

Well, there went that theory.

This would be awkward. "Jaune, considering everything we've all just learned, do you really think that we should be introducing our passengers to _Roman Torchwick?_"

Yang pulled herself up off the floor. "What's the deal with this Torchwick guy?" Her tone suggested wariness, an immediate shift back into her bodyguard's stance.

Jaune paused for a moment. "Ok, so: he is a crime boss. But!" Yang's eyes had gone wide with a _hell no._ "He's a good guy. Gave Ren, Nora, and me our first jobs once we'd just started out. He's always been a major base of operation for us, _and_ he's good at keeping things discrete—a good chance to let all of you stretch your legs a little," and there was the argument to win over Yang, "while we refuel."

Yang seemed to ponder it for a little, then looked Ren dead in the eye. "Ren: level with me. If you're iffy, I'm iffy, but if Jaune's right about his discretion, well, we weren't ever going to be stopping by the saints on this journey—I can work with a crime boss _if _I can expect that he'll be looking the other way."

"Jaune's… not wrong on those counts. Roman's discrete, and he has always treated us with particular respect, and he's very independent—he's very unlikely to have any interest with the White Fang. Neo's harder to pin down, but-"

"Neo?"

Jaune interjected, "Neo's his… it's hard to explain."

"She's his enforcer."

"It's not like… Okay, uh, yeah, that's pretty much her deal. She's his enforcer. But she's loyal only to Roman and… well, we've always gotten along." Jaune rubbed the back of his neck. "Also, she doesn't talk. Should probably give you a heads up about that."

"Not talking's honestly a plus," Yang said as she dropped herself down on a bench. "But what's the problem that's got you unsure on him."

"It's not necessarily a safety risk, no more than any other backwater station we might stop at. It's just that…" Words failing him, he looked to Jaune.

"It's just that he can be a little… eccentric on the first meeting."

"He will hit on you."

"I mean, he might-"

"He will hit on you."

Yang scoffed at that. "Please, like that's a new experience for me," her hands traced her figure. Ren had to admit, if one was looking for a romantic partner, they could do a heck of a lot worse than Yang Xiao Long. "If he hits on Ruby or the princess, though, he's dead."

It sounded enough like acquiescence for Pyrrha to step in. "On that front, we should regardless still strategize a means to keep Weiss's identity in the dark. As kind as he's been to us in the past, we cannot afford to take risks, and he is a known criminal."

Jaune seemed to take her counsel soberly, but Ren knew it was difficult for his friend to even consider Roman untrustworthy. He hadn't exaggerated how much Roman had done for the three of them, particularly at a time when they were at their most vulnerable, and, though Ren longed for more legitimate jobs, away from this dangerous life, Roman's charm was… hard to deny.

* * *

Of course, that charm was also hard to understand or explain.

Standing resplendent on the private landing pad the _Juniper _had docked on, he cut an unmistakable figure: a spotless white coat, a black bowler hat setting off his fiery orange hair, and a cane set at a jaunty angle. He was the icon of flamboyance, a man at the leading edge of fashion from either a planet or time the rest of the galaxy was unaware of. Neo stood slightly behind him, the one woman in the galaxy who could be said to match his fashionability, with her multicolored hair and parasol. She held a datapad in her other hand and kept her usual, mysterious smirk on her face. And then, as Jaune exited the ship along with Ren, Pyrrha, and Nora, came his manner of speaking.

"Do my eyes deceive me? Could the prodigal son truly have returned?" He gasped, theatrically. "I don't believe, truly, I don't believe it! Neo! Slay the fattened calf and call a feast! Our long-lost Jaune has returned!" With that, Jaune rushed forward, arms raised for a hug, only to be deflected by Roman's cane. "Watch the coat, kid."

If the deflection dampened his spirits any, Jaune didn't show it. "It's good to see you again, Roman." He received a pat on the back as Roman walked forward to meet the rest of the crew.

"Ah, and my dear Ms. Nikos, you seem to only grow lovelier every time I see you." He proceeded to kiss her hand, in his usual, fairly ludicrous, fashion.

"Flatterer," she teased, "You'll make Jaune jealous."

"As I should! Has he, by chance…" When she shook her head _no_, he clutched his heart in mock injury, "Have you learned nothing from all my tutelage? Nothing at all?" Jaune and Pyrrha shared a laugh (though Ren suspected neither of them took it as much as a joke as they let on) as Roman moved to Nora. "Well, Nora… Ship gets uglier every time I see it."

Her fists were immediately balled up in fury. "You mean it gets more _awesome_!"

"Park it at my station again and I'm going to have to fine you. It's causing my tenants to complain." And finally, he had moved to Ren.

"Ren."

"Roman."

They both nodded. Then Roman turned to Nora. "Has this boy ever smiled? Please, you have to tell me, has this boy _ever_ smiled?"

It was their usual routine. They must have had an exchange like this over a dozen times as they'd stopped by for work or resupply and for one fairly chaotic holiday visit. But this was, of course, different, because, for the first time, they had Yang Xiao Long on the walkway, striding out with all the confidence and bravado of a woman who hadn't spent the past few days on a cramped, ex-military vessel.

And, of course, as foretold, Roman made his move. "Oh, my word," he said, rapturously, "What gods rule over our starways, so cruel as to grant Jaune such fortunes, while, alas, am left but with Neo." Roman suddenly crumpled from an unseen blow. Ah, parasol tip to back of thigh. Honestly, took longer than usual—Roman was really on his best behavior. He righted himself and continued speaking as though none of this had happened. "I assume you are the beautiful and mysterious VIP I have been left to speculate so much about?"

"'Fraid not, handsome." This was a dangerous match—neither Yang nor Roman would ever back down from an innuendo or flirtation, and this could very easily escalate to a very ill-conceived pairing: Roman had money and neither had shame. "Yang Xiao Long, bodyguard, and I am very interested in this whole hand-kissing thing."

"Ms. Xiao Long, where have you been all my life!" He seemed absolutely delighted to take the opportunity. "As you requested, I prepared temporary quarters for your most mysterious and important guest, and I can assure you, they'll be guaranteed full anonymity and privacy, if they'd like to refresh themselves while your ship is refueling and the crew of the _Juniper_ will be with Neo and my delightful self, I've instructed my staff to prepare dinner for them and leave it in their quarters. I do hope it lives up to their undeniably exacting standards."

Jaune tensed at this. He and Ren had made it clear that they wanted to avoid being separated from their passengers as much as possible. "Roman, I asked-"

"You and your crew are having dinner with myself and Neo. _That_ is non negotiable." He turned to Yang, "Though, if your lovely companion might be inclined to join us…"

Ren could feel Yang's self-proclaimed dirtbag instincts grind right into her sense of duty. But it seemed duty won out, and she shook her head _no_. He silently saluted his friend, and thanked the gods of their journey that ensured the two parted so swiftly, as he and the rest of the _Juniper_'s crew, followed Roman and Neo off the landing pad.

* * *

The station had a chintzy glitz to it—elaborate decorations, a lot of gold leaf, but it was all simply… too much. Weiss had lived most of her life in literal palaces, where every fork had a centuries-long history and every plate was worth a small fortune. And it still wasn't as extravagant as the halls in this station. Which had the effect of amplifying the simple reality of this place. Which was to say, it was all fake.

This Roman Torchwick was like so many of the _nouveau riche_ that flocked around the Atlessian court, men of sufficient wealth to feel insufficient in all their other qualities. And judging from what she had heard from Ren, he was a man who felt the need to assert his wealth as proof of his success, and, in turn, as an element of his power—a poor crime lord was not long for this life. It gave the place a surreal quality—there was fresh fruit on a table in a hallway that led between the landing pad and a private room, who was that even _for_—but compared to the fleabag motels, literal prison cells, and the cabin she shared with Yang on the _Juniper_, all of its faults could be forgotten.

That they could guarantee privacy made her feel better. That their quarters would be close to the landing pad was even better than that. They moved in a tight pack, Yang at front, Blake and Ruby walking behind her, tense, but at the same time, she could feel it in the air that, as a group, they really wanted to believe that this would a safe haven.

That tension seemed to _snap_ as Yang cautiously opened the doors and they saw the room that had been set up for them. Yes, it was the same gaudy, overdone style, but seeing actual couches with plush cushions, a great window with a view of the swirling clouds of the planet below, and food on the table—real food! Her stomach growled at the elegantly prepared seafood meal on the table. They seemed to be in orbit of an oceanic planet, and it looked so tantalizingly fresh. A single slice of bread had been a godsend yesterday, this was…

Yang flung her hand up to call a halt, as though she could feel her companions' desire to surge into the room and enjoy it. "I know, I know. We gotta check for traps first. I'll sweep the room, Blake, back me up for any bugs, Ruby, Weiss—stay outside." Weiss glanced to Ruby, who sadly nodded in acquiescence, as Yang and Blake moved to examine the room.

Yang and Ruby were experienced spacers, used to spending long times in cramped, metal boxes and breathing filtered air, but even they seemed to struggle with not immediately giving in to the promise of creature comforts. Blake's ears had flattened miserably against her head as she briefly glanced at the tuna steak at the center of the table, then returned to checking for listening devices. It made Weiss feel a little bit better—proof of her growth or development or something, that she was no longer the spoiled princess who threw a tantrum if things weren't the way she wanted them. Sure, she wasn't as hardened as her peers, but hey! They were unhappy, too.

At last, though, Yang gave the all clear, and Weiss practically dropped herself into a chair and helped herself to some oysters. They were fantastic—for all the places where Roman may have faked his own prosperity, he didn't cut corners with the food. Ruby, Yang, and Blake took to the food with their characteristic lack of table manners, but she didn't feel like chastising anyone—she could hardly say that she was eating in a way that would make her father happy.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, focusing only on the material comforts of the food. But eventually, as their needs were sated, Weiss relaxed into a quiet, reflective mood. They hadn't had a moment like this since she first hired Yang, and she'd never been able to enjoy such a luxurious meal with Blake and Ruby. She had to be sure that she expressed her gratitude to them all with a meal when she was back on Atlas.

"So," Yang started, "the _Juniper_—what's our thoughts?"

Blake answered, playfully, "Come on, Yang. You clearly have something you want to say. Just get to it."

"No! I want to hear what _you guys_ think! It'll be fun. But okay, I'll start—Ren. Cool _guy_, good _stories_-"

"You want to _bang_ him…"

"No! I mean, mostly no. No, totally no. He is a friend and a friend only." Yang sounded like she was confirming this to herself as much as saying it out loud. "Plus, pretty sure Nora would kill me."

"I like Nora!" Ruby cut in, "The _Juniper's_ an amazing ship, and it's really incredible in its design! We've only been using it for quick jumps to outrun bigger ships, but it's also really, really maneuverable and I can't wait for when all this is over and I can really get to see what that engine can do!"

A silence settled on the room as Weiss looked to Blake looked to Yang looked to Weiss, each nudging the other to be the one to deal with this.

Ultimately, it fell to Yang, who took on her big sister tone. "Ruby… why do you think we'll still be traveling with the _Juniper_ after this?"

"I mean… wouldn't we?" she blushed, nervously, "They're part of this now, aren't they? Even after we get to Atlas, I mean-"

"They'll be well rewarded for their service," Weiss cut in, "But they're not- I mean, I don't know if they'd _want_ to stay on with us. Not that we won't stay in touch, but-" she was babbling now, uncertain where she wanted to take the conversation. Their smugglers would be well compensated, there'd probably be medals, and she would assume that they'd also be offered a commission with the Atlessian Navy, perhaps even an administrative position for Jaune, but she also assumed they'd likely turn it down—they were free travelers, and she couldn't imagine that they'd want to give it up for a courtly life or military service once this adventure was over.

"It's about 'Captain Jaune' isn't it?" Blake teased, as Ruby started to sputter a protest, "Cause I think you're gonna have to beat your sister to that punch."

"No, it's _not_-"/"I'm not _that_-" They both interrupted each other, but Yang signaled to Ruby to keep talking, then shot her worst glare at Blake, who contentedly shrugged. Weiss felt it was something of a cheap shot; Yang, for her endless flirtation, had, to Weiss's knowledge, not once taken an actual romantic partner in their journey. Blake could be insufferable in her teasing, though—less frequent than Yang herself, of course, but still bad.

"It's about Pyrrha…"

Ah.

This was the grand mystery, wasn't it? After Pyrrha and Ruby had returned from Cinder's ship, Weiss had been there to treat Pyrrha's burns. It was a grimly unsurprising sight—this is what could be expected of going head-to-head with Cinder Fall. Except, of course, that they had _come back_, and from what she could piece together from Nora and Ruby, Ruby had somehow gotten the better of Cinder. Something had happened on that ship, something Ruby was reluctant to speak of.

"I wanted to- I mean, I was going to tell you guys, but it's…"

"Rubes, it's okay—we haven't really had that many opportunities to just talk, and that was… a real crazy experience."

Weiss put her hand on Ruby's shoulder. "Whatever you have to say, you can say to us."

She took a deep breath, then continued. "I'm… I'm a Maiden."

That was… not an expected answer. She didn't know what she expected to hear, but not that she was part of a semi-fictional band of warrior women. Weiss had… very limited access to State Intelligence due to her family, which meant that she knew that the Order of Maidens did, at one point, exist—but that they had disappeared, went into hiding, or been wiped out a very long time ago.

"Or, I mean, I can be trained to be one. I think. I'm not really sure, it's really surreal to me, but Pyrrha told me I was able to beat Cinder—she and Cinder both used to be Maidens—but Cinder's an evil Maiden now and she betrayed the Order and killed almost all of them, but I was able to beat her because I can use the 'Aura' she said I had and Cinder wasn't expecting it and I have silver eyes!"

That was a lot of information in a few seconds, delivered almost entirely through hyperventilation. Even beyond the delivery, it was difficult to process—it seemed Atlessian intelligence was either mistaken or keeping a secret above what a princess would know. And silver eyes? She'd always found Ruby's eyes to be her most striking feature—not a dull gray but a silver that, at times, seemed to gleam with an unnatural light. But what did that have to do with anything? Weiss tried to calm down Ruby with another reassuring pat on the shoulder.

But then there was a knock at the room's other door.

This was… not okay. Could be an oversight—an employee who'd missed the message, or someone who'd gotten lost. But it could also mean something _very _bad. She nodded to Yang, and ducked out of sight. She saw as Ruby and Blake checked their sidearms, and mentally cursed herself for not having her own.

She could hear as Yang cautiously opened the door, thankful that it wasn't met with a hail of gunfire, but very much wishing she could see the person who was speaking.

"Oh, hello," Polite, professional, slightly servile-might be the real deal, might be a fake. "Roman asked me to offer you any assistance you might require. I'm Emerald Sustrai."

* * *

Nora was starving.

Well, not literally. She'd been through the difference before, but right now, she was made _very much_ aware that she was minutes away from _real actual food_ instead of ship food. The oven she had so ingeniously devised for the ship's kitchen had made a _world_ of difference, but! It! Was! Not! The! Same!

Especially because Torchwick Station meant getting treated _really, really _well! Not like royalty, which Weiss could probably tell her all about, and it really wouldn't hurt to ask, would it? But, anyway, she hated how much time she was spending waiting. Especially when they were just counting down time until they could _eat._

The waiting room was nice enough. Roman had told them to wait here a little while he made some arrangements (which was to say, he was absolutely preparing rooms for them, rooms he would not let them refuse, like every time they stopped by), and Nora felt like she _should_ enjoy the plush couch she had sprawled herself over, or the crystal bowl full of candy (the bad kind of candy, the red-and-white disks that were not sweet at all!), or appreciate the painting of a… boat? thing? that was on the wall. She could tell everything in the room was very expensive, which was always frustrating, because it wasn't the good kind of expensive where it meant she could do a lot with it before it broke, but the bad kind of expensive, where she couldn't do _anything_ with it before it broke. But no, the real problem with the room came from how _big_ it was.

Sure, this was just a waiting room, and _sure_, the ship's quarters could be described as "small," or "cramped," or "Nora, you are literally taking up my entire side of the bed," but that was how she liked it! She was never far from contact with the ship, from being able to feel the subtle hums and vibrations that told her that the engine was running, if not properly, then how she wanted it. In these big, open spaces, she felt… lost. Adrift. Like she might get pulled into space if she wasn't ready to grab onto something.

Pyrrha and Ren, weirdos that they were, were content to sit quietly and contemplate ancient poetry or math problems or whatever it was quiet people thought about when they were being quiet, but she could tell that Jaune was sympathetic to her plight. More so than usual—he wasn't usually this fidgety. Probably had something to do with being separated from their passengers. Probably because he was dating one of them, or something? She was pretty sure someone had told her their Fearless Leader and the Princess either had a thing once or they were a thing now, or some other not-really-her-deal business. If they had a relationship, it was the _boring_ kind where they never did anything and just commented on their rose gardens and the mildness of the weather until both of them died. Poor Jaune. A fate worse than death.

She was midway through formulating a plan to rescue Jaune from his tragic matrimony when Roman _finally_ came in. He and Neo swept into the room like they owned the place, which was appropriate, considering that they did.

He gestured with his cane theatrically and cried out, "Friends! It's always such a pleasure to see you," before seating himself, Neo standing behind him. A few nameless servants silently moved into the room, laying down a few plates of hors d'oeuvres and then disappearing. A quick glance to Ren for the okay, and Nora dove in to… whatever the foods were called. They were good, though!

"So," his voice took on a sudden and uncharacteristically somber tone. "Seems you've taken on a big job, here. Seems you and your crew are moving up in the world." Even Nora could tell that Roman had his guard up, was testing the waters.

However, it seemed that their Fearless Leader wasn't as attentive to this. "Yeah, you really wouldn't believe it, we were basically-"

"Jaune."

The interruption seemed to shock Jaune out of his humor. Roman continued, slowly, as though he hadn't practiced his words enough. "There are points in your life where you've got to acknowledge that you're just… out of your depth."

Jaune let his words hang for a second before cutting in. Now it was his turn to shift personalities. There was fire in his eyes and his voice had none of his usual goofy charm. Nora shuddered a little—this was the Jaune they'd met in Montglenn: the analytical tactician, utterly focused on achieving his goal. "What are you getting at, Roman?" he growled.

"I know you've got the Schnee girl on your ship."

Jaune leapt up at that, and Ren moved to stand as well, but a gesture from Pyrrha made it clear: _let them settle this._ Pyrrha's faith in their captain was unshakeable, perhaps even moreso than her and Ren's. Nora felt ill at ease, leaving it up to the two, but, she figured, there wasn't much her words could even do here. What Jaune's answer lacked in eloquence, it made up for in intensity, "What are you _getting at_, Roman?"

"You're out of depth, kid! You're playing hero, and-"

"_What are you getting-_"

"I didn't have a choice, kid!"

Jaune's fury exploded at that moment, striding forward to loom over Roman. "Roman. Who." It was easy to forget that Jaune's height, though a disadvantage in a spaceship, could make him a real presence in a room.

"Her name's Cinder Fall." The name stabbed like a knife through them. "She's been directing the White Fang. I've been keeping an eye on her progress: everyone who goes up against her gets killed. _Everyone_. Nobody's too big, and nobody's safe. I was told that they were looking for your ship, and that if I didn't give them a tipoff, there's nowhere I could run to."

She could see the tears forming in her leader's eyes "Roman, tell me you-"

"I called it in. She sent a lackey to pick up the targets. I insisted that there wouldn't be a shootout on my station, so you can take some comfort in-"

"We have to get to them, and-"

"It's too late!" Roman thundered, his knuckles white from the grip on his cane.

"Roman! Everything you've ever told me, _everything_ was that you never had to concede to anyone! That you and I and our crews—we didn't _have_ to play the game, that we didn't have to concede to Kingdoms; to anyone!"

"Yeah, well, sometimes you've just gotta admit you're beat, kid. You've got to keep yourself alive."

"I refuse-"

"They asked about Pyrrha!" Now Roman had leapt up, slamming his cane against the floor, the two men standing nearly face-to-face, with Pyrrha and Neo hanging at the sides, ready to strike.

A silence held the room. There was an unbearable tension in the air—Nora lived her life by fight-or-flight and this was a circumstance for neither. The room felt enormous, and the great, tearing force of entropy seemed poised to just rip the entire structure apart.

"They specifically asked about Pyrrha, Jaune—said she was likely injured, and that the Queen was interested in her." His words were nails, beaten into her heart with a carpenter's steady percussion. "I lied. I told them she wasn't with you, and you had refused to say anything when I asked. I told them you were… grieving her." Then his voice softened, almost sounding remorseful. "I took a damn huge risk on that, kid. I won't…" he glanced away, "You've just got to accept you can't win. I'll arrange a plausible breakout for you, you'll get to your ship, and you'll leave—like none of this ever happened."

"There's nothing you can do." It was like the tolling of a great bell. A signal of the impossible, of doomsday, of the end, well and truly finished. "The decision, Jaune, is final. There is _nothing_ anyone can do now."

* * *

Weiss realized now how much faith they were putting in Jaune's openly criminal friend. A very dangerous amount of faith.

Yang was keeping her tone pointed and suspicious. "Hold up." A change like this, even accidental, was never good news. "Roman didn't mention _you_."

She sounded legitimately embarrassed, and gave an awkward laugh. "Well, it's, uh, not entirely surprising to hear that? Roman's not exactly the most… communicative, at times."

If Weiss was still the woman she was when she began her journey, she would have been paralyzed by the indecision between her fear of imminent danger and her fear of making a scene. But this Weiss had long since gotten out of her father's shadow.

"Blake. We're going back to the ship—Ruby, with me," she whispered. The idea of leaving Yang behind terrified her, but this was a moment of crisis, and they had to be prepared for making a very hasty exit. If her companions shared her fears, they didn't express it. She silently thanked her fortune that they were just one hall away from where the ship was docked.

But as she turned to slip through the front door and move back down the hall, she realized that the overdesigned decor made it easy to miss that the hallway had a concealed door. Which was now open, and three figures in White Fang masks had apparently emerged from, rifles drawn. They were caught, flat-footed and outflanked. Even if she had a gun, they wouldn't be winning this fight.

She turned to see Emerald holding Yang at gunpoint.

"You might want to get down on the ground and put your hands up," she drawled. Yang turned, slowly raising her hands in the air as she knelt to the ground. "This was easier than expected. Really, the worst part about this is that I'm going to have to thank _Roman_ for his assistance."

"Do what they say," Yang quietly growled, "they've got the upper hand now. But…" her eyes focused, taking on that unsettling red color, "We'll see how long they can _keep_ it."


	6. Bildungsroman

Their Fearless Leader, Jaune Arc, had given up. His shoulders crumpled, his eyes downcast—this wasn't likable goofball captain Jaune or ruthless tactician Jaune, it was the picture of a scared and beaten young man, hopelessly out of his depth.

The tears came faster than Nora expected. It wasn't _fair_. Nora wasn't entirely sure who Weiss was and she was pretty sure Blake didn't like her, but Yang was Ren's Nora-approved friend! And Ruby… Ruby was as much a member of the crew as any of them in the room. She'd been there for her at her worst. They _had_ to be there for her. It wasn't fair!

It was so devastating, she barely heard Jaune's next words. "Pyrrha. Now!"

In an instant, Pyrrha had crossed the room, pulled a knife, and had it at Roman's throat. Even Neo hadn't had time to react, but she was quick enough to realize the key weakness in Jaune's scheme—Jaune himself. Before Nora could breathe, much less realize what was going on, her blade was also drawn from her parasol, and equally ready to slit a throat.

A good ol' fashioned standoff.

Roman glanced down at Pyrrha's knife, then looked back to Jaune with a sarcastic smile. "Well, now we've got a knife at both of our necks. And… nothing else has changed. You've substantially improved your rhetorical situation, haven't you?"

"Well, I've always been more of an improvisational guy, really."

"Be. Smart. Jaune." Roman's voice was sharp and deliberate. "Neo—if he even _breathes_ funny…"

"You won't be able to beat Pyrrha." Jaune seemed able to match him in tone—a final showdown, master and apprentice, a test of nerves between two men. "You know this."

A silence held, both men refusing to blink. Ren's eyes darted back and forth, between Pyrrha and Neo and Roman and Jaune. She and Ren weren't new to solving things with violence, but, frankly, there wasn't much they could do—nobody here was in Pyrrha or Neo's league, and a sudden movement could force Neo's hand in a very bad way, so all they really could do was spectate. If this wasn't so emotionally devastating and she wasn't so personally involved, Nora would have been thrilled to be here for it. It was, admittedly, less fun with those factors involved.

"Tell me, Roman," he grimaced slightly as Neo tightened the blade on his neck, "Do you really think this is it? That you'll get paid and they'll never demand anything more of you?"

"Cost of doing business. You keep your head down, wait for them to shift focus on to the bigger fish, and let it all to blow over. Just like I taught you."

"That was law enforcement, and small time operations, this is different. You know with her, you'll never be free again."

"Really," he drawled, "And when I go against her, what 'freedom' do I have when I'm dead?"

Nora listened to Roman and Jaune's exchange, but her focus was locked on the silent part of the duos. Pyrrha's face was a mask of serene focus; Neo was simply unreadable. She had a half-smile and a slightly dreamy expression that made it seem like she wasn't fully there—a dangerous misreading. Nora had very little experience with Neo, but she knew she was dangerous and highly unpredictable woman.

And yet, Jaune was speaking as though a trained killer _wasn't_ holding a blade to his throat, like he was confident in some hidden ace up his sleeve. She glanced at Ren, but his expression suggested he didn't have any answers, either.

"You've never been subordinate to anyone, Roman."

"Yeah, well, sometimes you've gotta change with the times. It's easy to be the boss when you're the biggest fish in the pond—try it when you're not, and you get eaten. Tell me, what would you even plan to do?"

Jaune leapt at the opening. "Help us fake a breakout, like you planned, and she won't know you were a part of it. We'll leave, and once we've beaten her, you'll be back to-"

"Oh? You're a freedom fighter now?" There was something cold in Roman's eyes, something dark and unpleasant. Something that reminded Nora of an older man she and Ren once briefly traveled with, who she'd watched kill another man over a dispute. They'd left him behind soon afterwards, but she never forgot the dull intensity of the man's eyes. She shivered; this was the Roman who saw the world in exploits and weaknesses, the crime boss on his way to the kill. "You could've gone back and kept up the raids on Montglenn, could've fought the whole system head on. But you didn't! You didn't, because you were smart, Jaune." That seemed to reach its target, and Jaune wavered as Roman pressed his assault. "You knew the only way to be free in this life is to survive, and the only way to survive is to Pick. Your. Battles. You made the smart choice, then. You'll make the smart choice now."

Jaune seemed to shrink back into Neo, unable to stand against Roman's assault. But then he pulled his gambit. "Neo," he addressed his captor in a quiet, pleading voice, "If what we had together ever meant anything, anything real, you've got to listen to me."

Whoa, _that_ was news. And not just to Nora, judging from the look on Pyrrha's face. An even bigger surprise to Roman, too. But he seemed to shake off the shock quickly enough to let out a low laugh and mutter, "Wait, you and her… Heh, crazier than I ever…" But then he seemed to reconsider his words. "But you've got to understand, you _have _to: nobody crosses her. _Nobody._"

"Might be true. But sometimes you've _got to know when you're beat_, Roman"

Roman paused for a half second, and then the meaning clicked. He shot Jaune a sly smile and, half under his voice, muttered, "Well, if you were crazy enough to… Alright, you win, kid. Listen to what he says, Neo." She blinked in surprise at Roman's apparent change of heart. But it was simple enough—he'd simply blinked, too. A little louder than necessary, he addressed Neo: "He's talking _crazy_, Neo. I have _no idea_ what _he might do_. He has a _hostage,_ and we_ really don't have a choice_ but to do what he says."

No one would ever consider Nora perceptive, certainly not in the way Ren was, but she could pick up the hints Roman was laying down. And that hurt her a lot. If he was willing to go along on a ruse so flimsy, Nora immediately could tell it was because he was _looking_ for an excuse to break, that he actually did care for them as much as Nora always _believed_ he did—which made his betrayal all the more painful.

It must have been hurting Roman, too.

If Jaune made the same connection, his voice didn't betray it. He barely even flinched as Neo's sword was removed from his neck. "Ren—take Neo's datapad and initiate a security override, see if you can cause any chaos for the White Fang, but clear our way to launch. Pyrrha, stay on Roman, but let's get back to the _Juniper._"

"What about me?" A note of eagerness entered her voice. "Go and rescue Ruby?"

"No. Go with us and get the ship ready." He smiled. "I just have the feeling they're not exactly going to 'need' a rescue, you know?"

* * *

Blake pulled the rope tighter, feeling the tension as the knot gripped against her captive's wrist. He was a rabbit Faunus, tall and gangly, and flinched as the friction of the rope tightened on his skin. He was only a kid, really. _No younger than you were when you started,_ before she banished the thought. "Just sloppy work," she tsked, "You got too close to the prisoners, which sacrificed the advantage you had, _and_ you let your guard down."

"I'm sorry Miss Belladonna," he said, miserably.

His partner, a cow Faunus, judging from the short, stubby horns poking out of her white, almost Schnee-like hair, awkwardly shoved him with her shoulder. "Don't apologize to that _traitor_!" Well, that was just uncalled for. She reached up and traced a nerve on the girl's shoulder. Then pinched. "Gugh-iiiiiieeeeaaaaaahhh! I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry!"

"Better. Now, what are your names?"

"I'm not going to-" Hand. Nerve. "Okay! Okay! I'm Lascaux. My comrade's Marigold, and the one your friend knocked out is Brida," she spat, "and we're not going to tell you _anything_ more!"

Her partner, however, had an almost depressing lack of resolve. "We don't know anything more! We just got told to go to this station and do what the scary girl with the green hair told us to do!" Ah, yeah, "Emerald." Likely a nickname or code name. She'd booked it once Yang snapped her handcuffs and slammed the third guard against a table hard enough to knock her out. Blake took the opportunity to reveal that she'd already picked her own cuffs, and pulled the knife from her boot, but the girl was real quick on her feet, with the sort of moves that suggested she had experience cutting out when things looked tough, like when the other two Fang guards proved to be fairly hapless with their rifles. A runner, not a fighter. _Like you_, the younger voice in her head said. She shook her head. Now was not the time for that.

Glancing over at Yang's progress, it seemed that her hand-to-hand combat skills vastly exceeded her knot-tying ability. She mumbled a few curses as she started trying again on her unconscious subject. Blake sighed and shot Ruby a "go help your sister" look. Honestly, though, it was still hard to believe the two of them were sisters—looks aside, Yang was a beacon of self-confidence and Ruby seemed to think that even the slightest failure would cause them all to permanently dismiss her as a child, and Ruby was the most technically-minded of them, while Yang solved most problems with a right hook. But they certainly fought like sisters, and, she supposed, that was proof enough.

Weiss was rifling through their former captors' gear. The princess, she noted, was getting much better at enduring kidnapping attempts. After she and Ruby had been taken by Cinder, it took her nearly a week before she even thought of being anywhere without Yang at her side. Now, she took it all in stride, even absentmindedly helping herself to a few grapes from a bowl on the table. "I don't know about your assessment, Blake," she popped another grape in her mouth, "but they don't really come across as the White Fang's best."

Blake ignored the pitiful whine of her captive. "No, they're not. They must have just scrambled who they had as soon as they learned we were here."

"So you don't think we've been… betrayed?" Ruby's head shot up at the implication.

The look on Ruby's face pained Blake to see it. They couldn't afford to _not_ suspect him, yet at the same time, she felt deep sympathy for her youngest teammate. Ruby did not make friends easily, the likely product of her sheltered childhood, but once she'd given someone her trust, she wouldn't ever turn their back on them. Blake supposed she was truly like her sister in that regard: while Yang presented herself as an easygoing, sociable person, she was also the sort who always kept an eye open, always expecting the inevitable betrayal. And yet, both sisters trusted her absolutely, and she never doubted that she could trust them. But Blake had learned, all too well, how trust can make you vulnerable.

"_Roman Torchwick_," she started, hoping to ease the blow, "is definitely going to learn what it means to cross us, but Jaune…" She braced herself, trying to say the words without having to think about them, without having to think about what Ruby was feeling. "If he sold us out, he… could have easily bought them time to organize a better response." It came to her automatically, possibly driven by her anxiety for Ruby, but once she thought about it, it made some sense. If Jaune _was_ in the loop, they'd have had every possible advantage—why waste it all by striking too soon? Emerald didn't seem _incompetent_, just working with very limited tools. A glance at the, frankly, hapless rabbit Faunus across from her underscored that. Given time, they could have pulled off a much better ambush. "I… think we can trust him." She watched as Ruby breathed a sigh of relief, and, to be honest, she felt some of that relief too.

Weiss nodded. "I think you're right. The crew of the _Juniper_ had us entirely at their mercy, and we can be certain that Pyrrha, at least, is Cinder Fall's enemy, especially from what Ruby's told us."

There was still a lot about Jaune and his crew that Blake needed to figure out. But her gut seemed to tell her that she could trust him—the same way it told her that there was something to Ruby that made her strange group trustworthy. That voice she'd spent so much time tuning out with… but no, she had to focus now.

"Miss Belladonna" Marigold whined, "I swear we'll never do anything with the White Fang again if you please let us live-" as his companion shoved him again.

"Have a spine, idiot! You don't tie people up if you're going to kill them!"

"…Is that true, Miss Belladonna? Because I'm really, really sorry, and I really don't want to die, and, and I'll never underestimate handcuffed prisoners _again_-"

"Please, I don't care if you kill me or not, but if you're going to kill anyone, please just promise to kill him!"

Blake stared at the two. She'd met dozens of their kind before: kids, excited for glory and heroism, looking for a place that would let them make a difference, or, if not that, a way to feel like they were in charge of their lives, that they could turn that fear they always felt into their own weapon. Dozens who had told her that she was their hero, their inspiration. She _and_-

Yang jolted her from her reflection. "Blake, _I_ think these kids are adorable and I'm gonna adopt them, that cool?"

"Yang," Weiss said in her patient, and long-suffering, tone, "please stop trying to recruit people who have tried to kill me."

"Pfft, if 'trying to kill someone' was a crime, I'd be in jail by now."

The captives immediately tensed at that, something Yang noticed. "Oh, get off it. You're _terrorists_, you don't get to judge me."

But it was time to focus, not banter. "As lovely as this exchange is, I recommend we get going."

"What about, you know…" Ruby's question was obvious, even if unspoken. _What about the Juniper's crew?_ If they weren't traitors, they were also in danger—likely captured as well. But at the same time, if _this_ was the crew sent to seize the four of them, evidently, the Fang didn't have the manpower to spare. So they might just be delayed.

"…We'll get to the ship and see. If the worst happens… Yang can pilot."

Ruby seemed poised to protest, but Weiss rested a hand on her shoulder and whispered something even Blake couldn't hear. But it was enough. Yang went to the door as the four of them readied themselves for whatever situation or shootout they'd have to get through to get through.

What they weren't ready for was Roman Torchwick to be standing beneath the _Juniper_ while being held at knifepoint by Pyrrha, Neo standing to the side, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently, (evidently bored? with this _hostage situation_?) while Ren fiddled with a datapad.

Roman was the first to notice their entrance. "You're the Princess, eh? I'd be happy to genuflect, m'lady, but I'm unfortunately being held hostage."

"There's… admittedly less Royal protocol on what to do in such a situation. Though I believe I _will_ punch you for betraying us."

"Fair enough. I suppose I would deserve it." She balled up a fist and connected it straight to his chest—to little effect. Weiss still wasn't exactly versed on throwing a punch, but Blake wasn't sure enough on how she felt about beating up a captured man to offer her advice on this matter. Roman seemed to be of the same mind. "I'd let you take another swing, but I think you have to get moving."

Weiss huffed at the remark, but it wasn't wrong. They _had_ to get going. Ren signaled to Yang an "we'll explain it later," then boarded with the four of them, while Pyrrha kept an eye on Roman until they were ready to go. As she moved to board the ship, Blake's sensitive ears made it possible to overhear Roman's last words to Pyrrha. "Just tell the boy… tell him… I don't know what to tell him. Tell him good luck, and… I'm sorry." The pistons hissed as the boarding ramp shifted and Pyrrha finally boarded. If she said anything to Roman, any final judgment or acceptance of his apology, it was delivered in a way beyond Blake's knowing.

* * *

Weiss didn't like how _normal_ this was becoming.

Yang, Ruby, and Blake had years of dangerous living in their past, and while she had been at this long enough that it only made sense that she was getting used to it, she didn't have to like it. But wasn't that the temptation? The liberation Yang had promised her what felt like a lifetime ago?

She stared out a viewport to see the clouds swirling over the planet Torchwick Station orbited. It was definitely an aquatic planet, the kind constantly covered with thick storms—the sort that would cause difficulty for sensor equipment. It made sense why a hive of scum and villainy would set up in such a place. It drew in those looking to hide, people like Roman, who looked to profit off of such secrecy, but also people like Jaune, Ren, and Nora, who were fleeing unjust imprisonment. All sorts of people, across the galaxy, were looking to hide. A group of people which, she supposed, now also included herself. There were long paths that led all of them—the pirates, the smugglers, the terrorist, the princess, the Maidens—to where they were, paths that only made sense when viewed in retrospect.

As the planet receded from view, she turned away from it, and immediately noticed the awkward, stumbling form of Jaune Arc.

"I," he swallowed hard, "Princess Schnee, I am so, so sorry-"

"No."

He was taken aback by the answer. "No?"

"It's _Weiss_. Not 'Princess,' if you're part of this team, then you're part of the team, and that means we talk as equals and we take responsibility for our mistakes in that _we don't make them again._" She was angry, and talking far too fast, but this was important and she didn't have time to walk him through this. And, she feared, if she slowed down and had to think about what she was saying, she probably wouldn't have any words to say. "You messed up. But you didn't betray us, and we got out of it alive. _That's_ what's important to us. _You._ Are the victim here as much as any one of us."

"Just because your father-" She cut off the incoming "He's not my dad" with a quick shushing. "That does not matter! A father figure, then! But he's the one who made the mistake—Not! You!—and, yeah, he's let you down and you're not sure how to deal with that, but you're not him and he doesn't decide who you are!" She felt dizzy. Had she winded herself? But she had to stand tall, feet squared, hands on hips, and projecting all the authority she could, even as she had to look up to meet the eyes of the much taller Captain. Finishing school had never intended her for this, but she'd have to make do with what she'd learned there on authority. "So I'm not going to let you apologize for what he did!"

"Wow." Jaune sounded stunned. "…don't think I've ever had a pep talk like that before."

"Well!" She balled up her fists. "It's true!"

She looked down and breathed for what felt like the first time since she'd started speaking. This was the hard part. "…Yang gave me this speech, once." She saw Jaune attempt to open his mouth. "No! Don't start! I'm telling you this so you have to pay it forward, too. When you're next… talking to someone who doesn't have the best relationship with their parents, you pass those words along, and see if it works for them. Okay?" She looked away. "…it really helped me to hear it from someone."

"…I will."

"Good!" She turned to leave, but then remembered something, something important enough to add. "And don't think I forgot what you said about Arcs and promises!"

* * *

**Shameless insert of my OCs, Lascaux and Marigold. My first attempt at RWBY fanfic was about them, haplessly caught up in the plot and decidedly out of their depth, but it never really came together in a way I liked. I still like the characters, though, and figured I'd put them somewhere. **


	7. What's Past is Prologue

The Fang and Torchwick should never have been allies.

There were plenty of reasons why neither should work with the other—the amoral gangster wasn't going to get tied up in a revolutionary cause that would inevitably demand more and more of all their allies, and the revolutionaries knew that the gangster simply couldn't be trusted to not betray them. And yet, they were allies. Cinder Fall had made it so, and all the old rules that Blake had once lived by were off.

This paranoia was made worse as she cross-checked the list Ren had given to her of nearby refueling options. She didn't like how many names were already crossed out, and she started to feel the pinch with each additional name she had to note as possibly connected to the White Fang. They weren't far from Tukson, and she knew he was a good and honest man, but she knew that about him from her time in the Fang. She couldn't afford to make the same mistake Jaune had and assume someone's individual goodness or personal connection would override their sense of self-preservation.

But they would soon have to stop somewhere. It wasn't just that they lacked the power for rapid acceleration—they were starting to run out of fuel altogether. And Blake was certain Cinder and the Fang were being _very_ attentive for any distress beacons between Torchwick Station and Atlessian space. As she walked back to the main room to try and fine Ren, her mind was caught up in wondering just what the White Fang were now—were their ambushers on Torchwick Station the same sort of kids like she once was, in over their heads, but still able to figure out, like she had, their limits? Or was it a darker organization—or maybe it always was dark?

It wasn't a pleasant thought to have, but then an unexpected sight stopped her in her tracks.

It was Weiss and Jaune, who had evidently resolved whatever conflict had emerged from Torchwick's betrayal. _Really_ resolved it, seeing as the two of them were in an embrace and—wait, were they _dancing?_ A tinny waltz played from a speaker as the two of them… it was hard to tell exactly what this was.

Fortunately, Ren was nearby, sitting at one of the benches and, bemused, watching them. She handed him her version of the list. "What's…" she vaguely gestured at the pair, struggling for words, "this?"

"The usual," he whispered, "we were talking, one of them brought up dancing, Jaune said he had some experience in ballroom dancing from the academy, Weiss didn't believe him, that became a challenge, here we are."

"What do you mean, 'the usual?'"

"It's usually Nora, usually some kind of physical challenge, and it's usually… much, much louder, but this sort of thing happens all the time."

But now that she knew what it was, it was hard not to get drawn into the _image_ of the two dancing—sure, Weiss was dressed in clothing more for practicality than elegance—a shirt, vest, and pants, clearly from Ruby's closet, certainly nothing like any of the incredible ballroom gowns she certainly must own, or could easily commission. And the music warbled from the cheap speakers, rather than a royal military band, and they both stared intensely at each other in cocky self-assurance and grim determination to not lose rather than with the adoring gaze they _ought_ to be sharing, but the way they gracefully moved in concert with one another, they dipped, swayed, and glided across the room, perfectly in sync, made all of that irrelevant. She had to admit: they were both magnificent dancers.

It was so… _easy_ to imagine the two of them, in a glittering ballroom—him, in a neatly-cut military uniform and her, in a dress as radiant as the starlight and more extravagant than anything she'd ever seen before. They would dance together, wouldn't they, in the palace on Atlas, at the end of this all, the princess and the vagabond. And she would whisper into his ear, begging him to take her away from her gilded cage, and the two mismatched, star-crossed lov-

Nope. Nope, nope. This was getting too weird.

Blake discretely slipped away from the pair. This wasn't the first time she'd been caught too far in her own idle daydreams, and, unfortunately, not the first time she'd caught herself drawing her friends into them. Blake was an unapologetic lover of romance, particularly romantic novels. And why shouldn't she be? The world she lived in was a dark and lonely place of violence and betrayal. Why not find some solace in a world of disguised princes, or villains whose hidden kindness makes them repent of their old ways, a world where love crosses all boundaries?

She lived for moments of convergence, the little sparkles of hope and beauty in the rough world. Finding the _Juniper_ had been one of them. The ship, humble, homely, and yet, a resolute thing, which wore its many scars like badges of honor. The faithful retainer, which carried its crew through danger and heroics, and bore the costs without complaint. And the crew… The roguish captain with a heart of gold, his stoic first mate, the manic engineer who'd never met a safety regulation she hadn't broken, and their mysterious warrior-queen-in-exile. How could you _not_ fall in love with them?

But they weren't stock characters, they were people—humans at that—and she reminded herself that their stories rarely ended the way they did in her books.

She entered her cabin, only to find Ruby sitting at what passed for a writing desk between their two cots, fiddling with some small device or gadget.

"Hi Ruby, sorry to disturb you. I'm just going to lie down for a little."

Ruby mumbled something that sounded like, "s'cool," neither looking up nor pausing in her work. Blake settled into her cot, and was briefly tempted to turn to one of her novels, but reasoned it might be a bad idea. She really didn't want to know where her imagination might take her if she combined some of her… more _intense_ books with where her mind was right now.

"Hey, quick question," Ruby interjected, "Are you dating my sister?"

Blake shot right up from the cot to her own, immediate embarrassment. There were many ways to better respond, but, well, the metaphorical cat was out of the bag. "Ruby, I swear, if _Yang_ put you up to this-"

"No, no! I mean, I'm sorry, but-" she turned a furious crimson, though Blake had to assume that was only a mirror of her own coloration, "I really thought for a while you two were, uh…"

"Hooking up?"

"Ew! No! …were you?"

"We're not." It was already a conversation Blake didn't want to have, especially with Ruby, of all people, and especially not now. Though at the same time, she knew she could just _say_ that, and Ruby would back off, but she wouldn't, because she _did_ want to talk about this. Keeping it all locked up in her head and just _thinking _about it all the time was killing her. And Ruby was… in many ways the worst person to have this conversation with, but there really wasn't anyone else to talk to. She sighed. Intergalactic terrorists were one thing, relationships another.

"It's tough to explain. Yang and I… I don't know. It's just been flirting. And we used to flirt a lot more, but… I think we've had a lot of things that we had to deal with that just kept getting in the way, and when we have the time, we just… " she trailed off. Part of the reason she wanted to talk about it was the hope that she'd just realize what their problem was if she just said it out loud. No, that wasn't right. It was in the hope that she'd realize that there was a _different_ problem, an easier problem, with an easier solution. "I just don't… I don't think either of us are really ready yet, we've just got too much to work through."

"Have you told Yang that?"

She felt her ears fold down as she let out a quiet _no_. Once again, Ruby was being helpful… by confirming that Blake would only find answers in doing the things she very much didn't want to do. "I haven't. I know, I know," she cut off Ruby's response, "But now's just… we'll talk when we get through this. I don't think either of us need the distraction right now."

Whatever Ruby was going to say in response was cut off when Blake rolled over, turning her back to the conversation. It was a rude exit, but she hadn't been lying—none of them really needed the distraction. They were on a blockade runner, pursued by terrorists and some kind of evil witch—surely everyone else was dealing with things more important than relationship drama.

* * *

Pyrrha stared at the list Ren and Blake had compiled, as though maybe the third read through would reveal that she was wrong about what she knew to be true.

There simply were no places left to refuel.

Either they were within Roman's sphere (and, thus, now under Cinder's influence), or they were possibly connected to the White Fang, or they were unlikely to be off the grid enough for their needs. So: nearby, discrete, has fuel, and not controlled by their enemies. She wished dearly that there was another option that they could consider.

She heard the hiss of the door, but already knew by the pattern of his footsteps that Jaune was entering the cockpit. He gave a quick, "Hey Pyrr," then sat down next to her. She liked watching him take the helm—Jaune had a handful of tells that gave away his captain's experience. The way he casually lowered the seat and adjusted the console for his height without looking spoke to his long experience with the _Juniper_. Everywhere else, he was a clumsy-but-lovable dork, but here, he was clearly a man in his element. Well, that reminded her.

"Ballroom dancing?"

"Rustier than I thought I was, but Weiss had to- wait, how did you know about that?"

She pointed to the grainy, black-and-white security feed she had tuned to the main room. Weiss was talking to Ren and Nora about something, probably related to the ship, judging from Nora's wild gesticulations. "And if that was you rusty, I wouldn't mind if you saved me a dance when we reach Atlas."

He chuckled at that, saying something kind, well-meaning, and deeply painful about how she certainly wouldn't be wanting for dance partners. Had she felt a quick stab of jealousy when she'd seen them? Of course. But not just for romantic reasons. Weiss, after all, was a simple enough woman to read, and her interests did not lie with Jaune Arc. And sometimes, Pyrrha wished he _would_ just find someone else, she could read him easily enough to know that, while their own attraction was mutual, there had been a few women had caught Jaune's eye (and, she suspected, a surprising interest in Ren) along their travels. Anyone would be better than this situation. Well, as long as it wasn't Neo. _That_ had been an unpleasant surprise, and raised the major question of how he survived that madwoman.

No, it was a matter of temptation. Temptations and oaths that bound no one on this ship but her. Old and mostly forgotten to the universe, but still there. And at the same time, so fleeting that she couldn't help but wonder why she still held on. There was no one left to blame her if she broke her vows.

No one but herself.

Jaune had seen the list and let out a low whistle. Working on the other side of the law meant knowing who would look the other way (and what bribes would have to be paid), and Jaune had always taken some pride in the extent of his network. The _Juniper_'s strengths as a smuggling vessel were as much on their contacts as it was their souped-up engine—but right now, neither were on their side.

In spite, or because of, Jaune tried to take an optimistic tone. "According to Nora, we can run the primary engines on fryer grease if we could get enough—won't be outrunning anyone anytime soon, and it won't be pretty, but it can keep us going. So long as there's civilization, we've got an option."

"Do you know anyone outside that list?" Jaune opened his mouth to reply, but closed it when no words came to him. Well, moment of truth it was. "…I know where we can refuel."

For once in his damn life, and without any context whatsoever, Jaune was perceptive enough to pick up her meaning. "You know, Pyrr, you don't…" He bit his lip. "You don't have to _do_ this to yourself. You're not in exile anymore. You're with us."

"Do we have a choice?"

He was silent, but she could tell he was running all the options in his mind. Her sweet captain, her beloved friend. She knew, from when she first met him, the arrogant smooth-talker trying to act as though he wasn't lost and hopelessly out of his depth, and yet, someone who meant every syllable when he told her she could come with him, and she could make a future away from whatever she was hiding from. It hurt her to know that Ruby, and not her dearest friend, knew more about her past, even that she _was_ a Maiden.

"I can enter the coordinates. There will be fuel there, and," she steadied herself, "there are some things I've been needing to address."

* * *

This disembarkment was to be less of a show than with Roman.

Ren stayed at the helm, and the engines were ready for a quick disengagement, if necessary. Jaune knew it wasn't—Pyrrha didn't make mistakes, not like he did—but there was no way to explain that to their passengers, not after their last attempt at refueling had ended so poorly.

Yang seemed to realize what he was thinking as she gave him a playful punch in the arm. "You know, I probably should have warned you—I was _pretty_ into Roman when I met him, and that should have been the first sign someone was going to get knifed."

It was an ill-timed attempt at levity, but it meant a lot that she would attempt to lighten the mood. He tried to fake some humor of his own. "That happen with most of your dating life?"

"Oh yeah. Dirtbag instincts only end one way." Her meaning was clear. _It's cool, I don't blame you._ Still, it was hard to take much cheer in the moment. Roman's words were still haunting him, and Pyrrha's... obvious apprehension towards this place made the landing something of a grim affair. Pyrrha always had a dolorous side, lurking behind her cheerful façade. He thought she was some kind of ghost when he'd first met her, the helpful kind, the urban legends that saved lost travelers from meeting her fate, but still had that great aura of sadness about them. She turned out to be flesh-and-blood—he blushed at where his mind took that thought—but her hidden sadness always seemed to have an unnatural quality to it. Something beyond his ability to help, but the sort of thing he'd always be there for.

The boarding ramp groaned as it shifted—the compressor piston was clearly getting worn, he'd have to make a note of it to Nora—and the sudden spill of natural light blinded him for a few seconds. Didn't affect Pyrrha, of course, and he stumbled forward to keep up as she stepped down the ramp.

As his eyes blinked back to vision, he saw the woman standing to greet them. She was… certainly not like Roman in her bearing. Stiff, formal, and with a critical gaze that made Jaune reflexively stand up straight and mind his bearing like he was still a cadet. She seemed ageless—like a woman who was never truly young and would never be truly old, a certain invincible sternness that suggested that the stream of time went around her, rather than carrying her forward. The cane she leaned on didn't suggest any weakness or infirmity, just a fact about her, as though she'd always been this way and always would be.

What surprised him was that Pyrrha seemed to stiffen, too. He knew that she was expecting someone there from her mysterious past, someone who had fuel for them and some unfinished business for her, but it was still strange to see his friend's posture shift to youthful nervousness.

"Reverend Mother-"

"I no longer hold that title, Pyrrha." Well, it wasn't a harsh correction or mean, but the forcefulness was… unexpected. She turned towards him and Yang. "I am Glynda Goodwitch, and I know what you are here for. There is a refueling point on the landing pad. It hasn't been used in a while, but it is still functional. I have prepared some food and drink for your crew." She looked Jaune in the eye, a look that seemed to mentally tallying all of his flaws. He gulped and tried to stand even straighter than he was before. "You are safe here for now. Cinder Fall will pursue you wherever you go, but she will not return here, not easily."

Evidently not interested in a response from him, the woman turned and walked off, with Pyrrha in tow. Yang shot him a _did that just happen? _look as Jaune shrugged. "I… guess we should get started refueling?"

Yang nodded. "Weird experience, but I don't think I was expecting a normal one. Kind of expected her to talk our ears off, really, so I'm taking this as a win." She moved to get to work, then turned back to Jaune with a teasing smile. "For the record, your guy was a lot more fun."

* * *

This was not a place where Ruby wanted to be.

But that wasn't really accurate, was it? Nobody had led her hear, nobody even knew she had wandered away from the group. But as soon as the ship landed, as Pyrrha and Jaune spoke to the… intensely serious looking woman, she felt something, sort of a feeling half like something had grabbed her and pulled, and half like there was a sound just out of her hearing, and she just had to get a little closer to understand it. But whatever sense it was working on, she felt the tug of something pulling her towards the large stone temple they'd landed next to and slipped away as the rest of the crew worked to refuel the ship.

She didn't know who built it, or why. A few mysterious carvings, either some kind of pictographic language or just aesthetic decoration, only made the whole thing more mysterious. But it was huge and old and made out of great stone slabs that almost felt like they were alive and watching her. She was in what must have been a great gathering hall, for ceremonies or addresses or whatever this temple had once been used for. A brief image of bloody sacrifice flickered across her mind, but it didn't feel right. There was something _wrong_ about this place, but not in that way.

It was like the feeling she got when she first met Pyrrha, though amplified a hundred times, and attached to the whole building instead of a single woman. Like reality had a hundred tiny holes in it, each drawing away some essential energy of what made a place real. She shivered, hoping that the cool draft she felt was a breeze from a big, empty temple, rather than something more mysterious.

She heard what sounded like a step, and her head whipped to the left so fast it practically cricked her neck. There was nothing there, of course. Just a noise, might have been a bird or a mouse, or maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her inside the big spooky temple.

But it did let her see that there was a passageway she'd overlooked before. Everything about her instincts told her to probably not go further into the creepy temple, to go back and find Yang, but another part of her told her that, no, she couldn't run away from this. Whether to prove she was a grown up who wasn't afraid of the unknown or because she knew that the pull she was feeling was too important to ignore, she soldiered on.

The hallway was curved, making it hard to see exactly where she was going, but as she walked down the path, she swore she saw a flash of white cloth only a little ahead of her. She picked up the pace, seeing another glimpse of a white cape that disappeared again behind the curvature of the walls. It felt so terribly familiar that it immediately spurred her into a run. She caught another glimpse, still maddeningly just ahead of her, no matter how fast she sprinted, until, all of a sudden, the hall ended, and she had entered into another room.

How far had she gone? Could the temple really be that large? There was no sign of the one she was pursuing, just these strange rows of marble half-walls that filled the room. Each one was filled with names, carved in neat, legible script, with a date. As she walked down the rows and glanced at the names upon names, she almost couldn't believe there could ever have been this many people who must have once passed through here, for it to be abandoned now. It covered hundreds of years, if not thousands, and the names… just who were all these people?

Eventually, she came to a wall where the names stopped. The last few in the furthest right column were clearly cruder, done in a less professional way, all with the same date, and roughly five years ago. The names were meaningless to her, but she felt a great sense of sadness for them. It wasn't hard to guess what it meant. As she traced upwards, backwards through time, she followed the names until she hit a name and year that stopped her in her tracks, a name she knew all too well.

_Summer Rose—Apostate_

* * *

They stood on a hill together, side by side and overlooking the temple complex. Pyrrha knew this hill well from her girlhood. How many times had she stood or sat here, feeling the breeze and the dewy grass, meditating, being lectured at, idly daydreaming of when she would get a chance to go on missions? It felt unreal, to be at a place so familiar, and yet, so different, like nothing had happened, and she'd simply aged half a decade overnight.

Ms. Goodwitch (she could never imagine calling her "Glynda") stood beside her in equal silence, resting on her cane. That was the one truly new thing, the real proof of what had happened. She didn't like it, as though a cane could be an offender.

They let the breeze pass, Pyrrha idly wondering when this world became strange to her.

"You still uphold your oaths?"

Pyrrha stiffened. "Of course I do. Well, those I still can."

"I suppose there's not many chances to live a vow of obedience when there's no one left to obey."

The silence took hold again. Pyrrha wanted to sit down, or go back to her crew, or just ask Ms. Goodwitch what she wanted to speak about and get it over with, but she held back. Even now, there were some authorities she couldn't cross.

"Why do we take vows?"

"Is this a test?" The hint of sarcasm in her voice tasted unusual, something she'd picked up after her student days, something she'd never used here before.

"Humor your old teacher."

"To commit ourselves to a cause bigger than ourselves," she recited, "to connect ourselves to our sisterhood, both living and dead."

"Mmm, yes. You were always a good student. Always promising, so hardworking." She seemed to be scanning the horizon for something. "But you're wrong."

"No, I-" she bit her tongue. She knew her teacher's style well enough. The lesson was always coming, no matter what you said.

"You recited correctly, of course, but that's not why we took our vows." Pyrrha braced for the lecture, but was surprised when she felt the older woman lay her hand gently on her shoulder. She looked Pyrrha in the eyes, a softer, more personal side that Pyrrha had never seen in her before. "The vows are how you connected yourself to our community and our cause, yes, but the community is a living thing, a history, an experience. You know us, and remember us, and are one of us because you took and lived those vows—but you know us, remember us, and are one of us forever. The vows are not what make you our sister, Pyrrha. They shaped you, but they do not own you. You are my-" she hesitated, for the first time in Pyrrha's life, her teacher hesitated, "You will always be one of us. But what are your vows making you now? Do they bind you to your community, or do they bind you to a graveyard?"

Pyrrha was stunned. "You want me to… to give up? To turn on-"

"No!" The emotion in her voice was painful to hear. "I want you to live. To be a Maiden, to fight for the galaxy, to be everything you were supposed to be, a woman who fought to protect and uphold the community."

"Pyrrha." Her patient tone was back, but her voice now had an insistent quality to it. "Who is your community now?"

She said nothing, but her eyes, quickly darting to the _Juniper,_ betrayed her.

"Dedicate yourself to them. Live by your oaths, but know that they were always tools, not laws. Be what the galaxy needs of you, and what you need of yourself, what-" Was she blinking away a tear? "What I always hoped for you."

"And for Ruby?"

"That I should teach her?" She let the question hang a moment. "I… cannot. But you know that. You didn't come here for guidance, Pyrrha. You came for permission."

She always had a way of knowing what Pyrrha thought before even she'd realized she'd thought it. But to teach Ruby herself? She was scarcely out of her training before Cinder betrayed their Order, and after that, she'd been part of a smuggler's crew, not a sacred warrior. But she knew, from the look in Ms. Goodwitch's eyes, that she could do this, that she would succeed. "I… Thank you."

"Go. And teach her what you will; there's no one else who can do it. There's no one left."

* * *

Ruby wasn't sure how long she'd sat, facing her mother's name and seeing her face reflected in the polished marble. She never really knew her mom. She had always relied as much on Yang's stories as she did her own memories to really picture her. Her dad never said much. She had learned from a very young age that he'd never really processed her death. She had died protecting innocent from the Grimm, but that was about all she knew. Dad had pulled himself together since, but from what she knew from Uncle Qrow, he just wasn't the man he once was. And Uncle Qrow was even more loath to talk about how he knew her mother.

"This is the Hall of Honor."

She hadn't noticed or heard Pyrrha enter, which wasn't surprising. Even with how distracted she was, this place didn't seem quite… normal, and Pyrrha wasn't quite normal either.

"Whenever a Maiden passes, we add their name to the list. It was a solemn duty to record our membership, and I used to spend a lot of time here, when I was a novitiate, reading the names. I think I was worried that no one would read my name long after I had passed." She brushed her hand along the names—names of people she most likely would have known personally, Ruby realized.

"You're Summer Rose's daughter, aren't you?" Ruby simply nodded. What words did she have? "I was part of the team that investigated her passing. And… so was Cinder." The mention of Cinder, in such proximity to her mother, felt like a blow. She cast her eyes down as Pyrrha continued. "We didn't learn anything you wouldn't have already known. You mother was a hero, but… the part you wouldn't have known was that she had been a Maiden, once. We never thought there could be a 'once.' We'd always been told that Maidenhood was a lifelong commitment, that your vows were for life, and that we'd never get to have a normal life, or raise a family. It was… something that Cinder took rather seriously."

"Ruby, I can't promise you all the answers. I can't promise you that I'll be able to do any better than…" she gestured towards the countless names. "The Maidenhood gathered together some of the finest, bravest women in the galaxy, far more wise and experienced than me, put them towards a single task, and it ended in total failure." Her voice was resolute, and Ruby knew where this was headed. They were standing in the ruins of the past, a very specific reminder of where this could lead. "But I can teach you how to use the strength inside you. And I can promise that, wherever we're going, we'll face it together, for as long as we both can. Will that that be enough?"

Ruby mulled it over in her head. This was what she wanted, right? To defeat Cinder Fall, to understand her secret power, to learn more about her mom? This was everything she'd wanted when Pyrrha first told her she could be a Maiden. But she still felt apprehensive, to take this step. Pyrrha looked… she looked sad. Not just because she was standing in a graveyard of all her friends, but like she felt sad that Ruby had this chance as well. She took a deep breath.

"Okay."

**I've really enjoyed the monomythic and archetypal writing that comes with this AU, but I will admit, this chapter and the next have been difficult to write, because they're fairly downbeat and more contemplative. We're in The Abyss, folks, the point of the story where the Hero is at their lowest and the parental angst (or parental figure angst) comes out. Thanks for sticking it out with me, and I'll see you next chapter.**


	8. The Approbation of Birds

The sword was too light, too stubby, to truly feel comfortable in her hand. Crescent's weight was an integral part of how she fought, and now, with this… toothpick, she felt like she was wholly unarmed, like there was no way she could fight like this.

The blindfold made it even worse.

_CLANG!_ The blow rang from the tip of her sword all the way to her elbow. "Did you feel that?"

"Kind of hard not to," she grumbled. Pyrrha was, on top of being graceful, kind, beautiful, and socially gifted, also strong as hell. Ruby had grown up taking punches from Yang—mostly friendly, big sister roughhousing, but sometimes a lot more, "to toughen her up"—and Pyrrha's hits were easily in that same class.

"But tell me: where did you feel it?"

She rubbed her arm, still feeling the shock of the blow. "In my arm?" she ventured.

"Ah, but Miló is sharp. If I hit your arm, you would be bleeding."

Though the blindfold made it a futile gesture, she rolled her eyes. Pyrrha's teaching style, outside of the "wear a blindfold and get hit by swords" part, was mostly in the form of asking a series of questions. But unlike her first experience using her "Aura," Pyrrha's tone was much more confident, even playful, as she walked her through the concepts. Ruby felt she'd appreciate, even enjoy, her tutelage if she was actually making progress, rather than just taking blows. "In the sword. The blade, technically. Upper medial edge."

"Do you have nerves in your sword?"

"What? No?"

"Then how did you feel it?"

"Because… because I can feel it with my arm? I don't know what-"

"Think about what you can sense and how far your senses go beyond your self."

"Is this about what happened on the _Juniper?_"

"Yes, but even before then, you could extend your senses beyond yourself—you knew where my sword met your sword because you can do so naturally, without ever realizing it." She had, of course, attempted to replicate the exercise she had done with Pyrrha when they first met, but she'd always failed. But this might have been her mistake: if she focused on her senses, instead of trying to force some kind of intangible spirituality outwards, she might be able to repeat her original success.

"See by touch, hear by sight, feel by hearing. Do not think of yourself as a simple body that ends where your skin ends, but a _continuity_, that stretches out beyond yourself, into the world and people around you. _That_ is the truth of Aura—it is not some hidden magic power, but a realization, a connection of our souls that crosses all boundaries and divides. All people are connected by Aura, but as a Maiden, you can shape that connection and let it guide you."

She braced herself, readying the sword in her hand. She felt the weight of it as it wavered in her hand and tried to feel it vibrate in the air around her. Her feet tested the solidness of the ground and tried to reach out with her senses as the _scuff_ of feet moving on stone and the subtle pressure of the air shifted triggered her reflexes to snap to her right and meet Pyrrha's swing with her own. The swords rang out, and Pyrrha laughed—a proud, joyful noise that inspired Ruby's own laughter. Ruby took the chance to take her own swing, and their swords sang as the two dueled across the room.

* * *

He wasn't hard to find, sitting on a grassy hill overlooking the main temple complex. Blake had seen him wander off after they refueled the ship, taking a moment of Nora-induced chaos to slip away. Normally Blake would respect someone's desire to be away from the group and get some thinking done, but she'd been putting off this conversation long enough. She had swiped a bottle of mystery alcohol and two cups from the hut near the landing pad. Food and drink had been left out for them, so she assumed there'd be no problem if she took it, and besides—this was not the first time Blake had simple pocketed something she'd wanted from a human.

He didn't notice her on approach. She knew she was stealthy, but she also wasn't exactly hiding—he simply seemed to be lost in thought. Well, here went nothing.

She thrust the cup to his face. "We're talking, now."

"Is… this how you start all your conversations?" He cautiously took the cup from her as she unscrewed the bottle, noting the potency of the fumes.

"It's working, isn't it?" Lacking a response, he just shrugged, and held his cup out as she gave him a generous pour. She took a sip after pouring herself a glass, and immediately grimaced: pure rotgut. The kind of alcohol she'd expect from Yang, not the weird woman who lived in an abandoned temple. Well, maybe she should have expected it from her. Either way, it was liquid courage for her to ask what she needed to ask.

"When you were in Montglenn," she noted how he almost flinched with the word, "you would have known a Velvet Scarlatina, then?"

"Velvet?" He smiled in fond recognition. "Yeah, really couldn't have not known her. She was the one we had watching patrol routes and timing the guards. Incredible memory, she gave us all our windows of opportunity almost down to the second."

"She speaks well of you, too. You're something of a personal hero to her."

He seemed to be genuinely embarrassed by the compliment. "Well, it's like I said on the ship. We all did our part in it. She did just as much as I did, and as a Faunus, so with much bigger risks."

She let his deflection pass as she moved to the real question. "And you also would have known an Adam Taurus."

"Adam?" With this one, his eyes seemed to sparkle with wonderment, in a way Blake had seen before, and, she had to admit, she herself must have looked like in the past. "He was… incredible. Absolutely fearless, he was the one who really overpowered the guards when we seized the armory. Charged right into gunfire more than once. But the big thing was, once he backed my plan, I had the assistance of all the Faunus prisoners, and that made all the difference."

"The way he tells the story doesn't include you."

"Oh." He seemed a little put out by that. "Well, I don't think I'd blame him. He did the hardest work of the breakout and… he stayed in the system, to help the resistance. While I…"

"Left?"

He took a drink. "I'm not a brave man. Ren and Nora think I am, because of the breakout, but staying was a hell of a lot scarier to me than leaving."

"Jaune, in the short time I've known you, you've been in two ship battles and a hostage situation, and you haven't-"

"I know, I know. I don't need another pep talk or anything—it's just, I'm a smuggler, and I'm okay with who I am and what I do, but I'm not…" He took an even longer sip from his drink. "I'm not a hero. I'm not the guy who runs into danger, or never gives up on his cause."

"And Adam was?"

"What else _could_ I call him?"

What else indeed. "He… Adam is a lot of things. I used to think he was…" Her hero? Her friend? Her lover? "I used to think the world of him. I'd heard, from him and others, the story of the Montglenn breakout a hundred times. And I believed every word. But then I met Velvet, who had a different story, with different characters, and this breakout _had a different leader_." Her words had an unexpectedly insistent force. "It made me start asking questions, start wondering exactly how much my worldview was created and controlled by him. Those questions led me to discover Cinder Fall and the _Basilisk_. And now I meet the man behind the question that set me on this journey." She sipped her drink. "You can see why I have some questions."

"Well, sorry if I don't have any answers." His voice had stiffened. "I keep my head down. I'm here because Pyrrha's got a connection to a world so far above mine, I can't even see it. And you and Weiss and the rest—you're part of that world. But I'm sitting here, looking at this giant stone _temple_ that Pyrrha's got Ruby doing… I don't even know. I'm just the pilot, I'm just the guy who gets you to your destination. Everything else, that's not my world. I just brush up against it, sometimes. Does that answer your questions?"

Despite herself, she smiled. "It kind of does, actually. I wanted to hear why you did what you did, because I spent all my time in the White Fang doing bad things for a good cause, and it… I have nothing but regrets for it. And you just did the right thing without even thinking about it."

"Yeah, but if I did the right thing, it was for the wrong reasons."

"But that's all that really matters, right? You did the right thing, and you've inspired half a sector. You lit a fire in Velvet Scarlatina's heart that will _never _go out, the sort of inspiration that drives her to stand up to injustice just like _you_ did." She thumped the bottle on the ground to underscore her point.

"I never meant-"

"It doesn't matter what you meant. Didn't matter that _we_ meant to help the poor and downtrodden, and so often, all we did was prop up petty tyrants." The alcohol wasn't helping as much as she hoped, but the burning sting in her throat felt appropriate for her mood. "Revolutions are… hard. I was never a real decision maker, but I was in Adam's inner circle. And we had to compromise on a lot. You need support, you need to present a united front, and the two of them together means that we were making deals with people we shouldn't have… and then had to make sure they were then never criticized or stopped, because every mistake they made was just proof that the Faunus can't govern themselves. So it's easier to just make it look like it's all smiles and sunshine. I thought it was a necessary sacrifice, until Adam…"

Something clicked for Jaune, "Hold on, is Adam the same as-"

"Yes. The Hero of Montglenn. And the reason I left the White Fang." She sighed into her cup. "Even now it's hard to imagine that they're the same people—like I could just believe that Cinder brainwashed him or there's some secret plot, but it's not like he 'turned evil.' Adam always was Adam. When things were good, I could ignore and explain away how he always had to be in control and never contradicted and how terrible his anger was. Or how swift he was to berate me whenever I'd criticize any other leaders because it was 'emasculating' them."

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"Thank you, but don't be. It's been a long time, and I've come a long way since then. It's still hard, to separate the movement I love and the cause I care so much for from the small, tyrannical men who made up so much of it, whose entire worldview was divided by who dominates and who is dominated. It's… hard to explain to humans."

"'The oppressed finds in their oppressor their model of masculinity,'" he quoted.

She nodded, surprised. "So you've read-"

"I _do_ have half an Academy education."

"The Valean Navy had you read Faunus theorists?"

"Dr. Oobleck's class had us read more than you could imagine."

It was hard to reconcile that image of a Vale where military officers were required to read theories of oppression and the Vale that operated concentration camps of her people, but it was also hard to reconcile the Atlas she knew with the Atlessian princess who, with tears in her eyes, pledged to do whatever it took to end the cruelty she'd now seen firsthand.

"Do you think…" He struggled for words, partly from the fraughtness of the conversation, but also likely due to his nearly-empty glass. "Do you think that this adventure, saving Atlas, saving the galaxy, will help make things better?"

Blake downed the rest of her own glass, savoring the crude bitterness. "Maybe… Maybe the only outcome of our whole adventure is a new reason for people to hate and fear Faunus because we partnered with Cinder. Maybe I'll just be the token 'good one' who people can point to and prove they're not bigots while they round up 'suspected terrorists' who just got angry in public or were insufficiently deferential to humans. Maybe we'll save the galaxy only to leave it a worse place than before we started."

"So… why do you do it?"

"Because I need to believe in heroes. Because I believe we can be the ones who shape this story, and announce to the world that we did this for everyone, and to make a better world. Because I believe in Weiss. And I believe her remorse and I believe her when she says she'll do better. And I believe in Ruby and Yang, who don't have the power Weiss has, but I know they'll do everything they can to do what's right." Then she looked Jaune in the eye. "And because I believe in you."

"You might want to think twice before counting on me."

"No, Jaune, you'll do the right thing. When it comes down to it, you will."

He didn't attempt to deny it or undermine himself. He merely nodded, and looked away. He was, in spite of himself and what he might say, a good man. Blake stood up. "Thank you. It was good to talk to you, and I think I found the answers I was looking for." On a Yangish impulse, she gave him a kiss on the forehead before turning to leave. The intensity of his blush did seem to dispel Yang's theories about him and Ms. Nikos. _But, _she thought with an impish smile as she walked off,_ he might just make an excellent match for our Ms. Schnee_.

* * *

Pyrrha sat with Ruby in the main room of the _Juniper_. The ship was refueled, the crew seemed refreshed, and she had given Ms. Goodwitch her goodbyes. There were few words spoken, but, when she pulled her into an unexpected and maternal hug, Pyrrha felt words wouldn't have been necessary. She approved of Ruby; she was… skeptical of Jaune. But Pyrrha knew that whatever her choices were, Ms. Goodwitch trusted her to make them. She felt… warm, as though for the first time, she was once again able to connect with people, to no longer have to always live at a safe distance.

There had been surprisingly few questions about either of their disappearances, but that had been unsurprising to Pyrrha—they'd only had enough time to barely introduce Ruby to Aura, and in that time Nora and Yang had apparently created a fine distraction in developing a game where they tried to toss and catch peanuts in their mouth, which, likely from Nora's influence, had a sprawling series of arcane rules and scoring that had created enough arguments to overshadow everything else on their stopover.

As the ship rumbled its way through takeoff, Pyrrha glanced over at Ruby, whose face was lined in concentration, clearly attempting to repeat the exercises Pyrrha had just taught her. She had to admit, it was very cute, and she wondered if she looked like that, when she'd been an excitable novitiate. She and Cinder had been trained together, and they were the youngest of the Maidenhood, so she'd never before had the opportunity to see this newness from the outside.

"Something on your mind?" she ventured.

"Oh! Um, well, yeah, one thing." Pyrrha nodded a _go ahead_. "When we first met you were… different. Like there wasn't anything wrong but you weren't normal?"

"I was hiding," she answered in a quiet voice, "and you could sense that. I was hiding from Cinder and from my past and from everything. So I cut myself off from the world, from my Aura, for fear of being found."

"And nobody else noticed?"

She shook her head _no_. "You and I are of a rare few who can truly sense Aura. Jaune, I think, could sense that I was hiding something, but he… doesn't know I'm a Maiden. None of the crew knows, but… it's hard that he doesn't. He doesn't know any of my past, and he's always given me space on it, but sometimes…"

"You just wish he'd ask?"

She smiled. Ruby was a sweet girl, and surprisingly perceptive. A combination which could get annoying, she reckoned, especially if she was going to be pushy about her and Jaune, but the sort of connection she'd missed dearly in her exile. "There's quite a bit I wish he'd ask," she added, as Ruby giggled.

They whiled away the time in idle discussion. It seemed that Ruby had a million questions, and Pyrrha did her best to try to answer them, now realizing that Ms. Goodwitch's severity was probably developed by experiences like these. But as they chatted, she began to feel a dark shadow across her mind.

"Pyrrha, did you-"

She nodded, and raised her hand to still Ruby's panic. In a quiet voice, she said, "I think I have another thing to teach you, Ruby."

* * *

Yang grumbled in her seat as Ren and Jaune manned the helm. Stupid Weiss and her stupid sense of poise helping her win a stupid game that stupid Nora had invented with her stupid self. Dumb time killers were _her _house, and a fancy princess has no right to take that from her. Why did they even _have_ a double left hand rule?

Ren, the Weiss-defending traitor, shot her a quick glance, then went back to watching the sensors while Yang pouted. He and Jaune made some idle chatter about the ship that, even if she wasn't in such a fell mood, Yang would probably find herself bored by. They were refueled and not far from Atlessian space, and she could already feel the tension in her gut that came from knowing that you're almost home free. As she idly watched the stars pass by, images danced on the edge of her mind—making rendezvous with an Atlessian ship, Weiss and Blake presenting their report to the military of Atlas, Cinder being defeated, Yang getting paid all the money—they were just _almost_ there.

A sudden orange light jolted her back to reality.

Grimm were an expected risk of long distance travel, especially in the odd backwaters this route put them through. A ship of their class typically relied on speed and a good lookout to handle these issues, and the _Juniper_ wasn't lacking in either. Even without having the fuel needed to get their engines to the full speed that could outrun patrol ships, they'd be able to outrun Nevermores, Griffins, and most infested wrecks. The bigger Grimm, though…

Yang's eyes were glued to the sensors as Ren focused the blue blur into a discernible shape. No matter how good your sensors were, Grimm outranged you—they could sense human emotions, which evidently carried very well in a vacuum. Fortunately, space was big, but that was cold comfort to them now. As the image sharpened on the screen, it became clear that they weren't dealing with the easy problems.

"Leviathan!"

She wasn't sure who said it, might even had been herself, but it was the undeniable reality. A massive Grimm beast, about the size of a heavy cruiser, and with the firepower to match. Worse, it was approaching them from the direction of Atlessian space—there was no way around it. They were usually rare creatures, but, of course, that wasn't accounting for Cinder's influence.

"Well, boys," she drawled, "don't think we have the firepower to deal with that." Stating the obvious, but they had to start somewhere.

"Yeah, but if we pull in close-"

"You want to get _closer?_"

"A Leviathan's far too accurate at range," Ren cut in, "and any of it's shots will punch right through us if it hits."

"It'll smash us apart if it _smacks_ us."

But Jaune was undeterred as he primed the thrusters. "Ever have to swat a fly? Well, lets put that shoe on the other foot."

* * *

"I wanted to give you some time before we got to this, cover the basics first. But, well, desperate times…" Ruby braced herself for a revelation and tried to tune out the dull rumble of the Grimm's presence. Pyrrha continued, "You and your mother are Maidens, trained in the art of Aura, but you're more than that. You're marked, like she was, by your silver eyes."

She nodded to that, extraordinary as it was. Uncle Qrow had always told her that silver eyes were special. He once, when she was young, almost told her they were "lucky," but then he quickly corrected himself. Even as young as she was, she remembered the look on his face—regret mixed with horror—and wondered what it was he saw in her when he saw her eyes.

"It was how you were able to defeat Cinder Fall. I could feel it, knew what it was from the beginning—a silver-eyed warrior is gifted with a special power over Aura, greater than mine or any others. Do you remember how you awoke that power when on Cinder's ship?"

"I was…" Her answer was obvious, but the question was, was it the right one? Was this the way of a Maiden? She opted to go with the truth. "I was angry. Just so, so angry. And I was angry at everyone. Angry at Cinder for what she did to me and Weiss. Angry at you for locking me out. And angry at myself, for being helpless."

She felt a stab of guilt for letting her emotions pour out of her like that, for admitting she had given in to her anger, but Pyrrha's warm, supportive smile almost magically seemed to pick her up. "I'm sorry, I suppose I _did_ lock you out without any warning, didn't I? And I never really apologized for it." But then she focused her words. "Now, Ruby, remember what that anger felt like, and how it came to the surface. Think of the power you felt within you, but know that this power isn't a force of your anger; it was something that was always inside you. Discern the power from your anger, and let that come to the surface…"

Ruby closed her eyes in focus as she followed Pyrrha's guidance, hoping that whatever power came with silver eyes, it'd be enough to take on the Grimm attacking them. Judging from the hatred she sensed ahead of them, it had to be something massive.

* * *

Jaune _flung_ the ship at the Leviathan so suddenly he could hear Yang's fingers dig into the seat. "Are you _crazy?_" she hissed through gritted teeth.

"Safer than the other-" He jerked the ship hard to the left, narrowly missing colliding with one of the Leviathan's fins. A damn close call, and enough to make Miss Daring Pirate Captain almost scream, but… it shouldn't have been that close. It was like the creature…

Wait, that wasn't… _possible_.

Yang was the first to articulate it. "It's… it's not moving?"

It stood, frozen in space, like it was an enormous carving of a monster, rather than their imminent doom.

"What, did it break or something? How does a super monster-"

"Pyrrha," he marveled.

"What?"

"I mean, I don't _know,_" he admitted, "but this is, well, kind of a Pyrrha thing."

"Well, whatever it is, we're taking our chance." Yang turned to shout into the intercom, "Blake! Can you get to the guns?"

"Way ahead of you," came the reply, as the ship's battery cut loose into the Grimm.

* * *

Ruby felt like she was hurtling through atmosphere, like she'd been thrown off a ship without a parachute, her body tumbling and the wind screaming in her ears. Her eyes were wide open, but she couldn't see anything, just a blinding white light. This… whatever it was that the ship was facing was a terrible monster, massive and hateful and struggling mightily against her. Ruby braced herself, gripping her fingers into the bench so tightly she was sure she was leaving a dent, but the pain in her fingers anchored her, kept her from being torn away.

A stab of pain lanced through her as she shrieked, "I… I can't hold on!"

"It's alright Ruby," Pyrrha's words sounded strange, like she was hearing her from underwater. "I can guide you."

She felt Pyrrha's hand on her shoulder, and all at once, it was like the roar in her ear subsided, like her presence had driven it back. "The power of the silver eyes is anathema to Grimm. Your power binds them and averts their power of destruction. But you can do more. _Push_ that anathema against it—size matters not, nor does strength. You are their opposite—focus on that power within you and _drive_ it outwards!"

Ruby, still blinded by pure white light, swallowed nervously. But with Pyrrha's calming presence, the almost infinitely massive beast before them seemed… no longer so unconquerable.

* * *

Laser fire raked the surface of the Leviathan, blasting deep gouges across the surface. An oily black mist rose from the wounds, but the Leviathan remained frozen in place. But as Ren watched the scanner, it only confirmed Yang's initial assessment: the Leviathan was simply too big for them to seriously hurt.

He glanced to his captain. "It's no use. We've got to get away, Jaune!"

"We don't know how long this thing is frozen, I'm not taking a chance for it to pick us off-"

"We don't _have_ a-"

They were interrupted as a blue warning light clicked on. Gravitational displacement alert, a clear sign of an imminent arrival, and judging from the intensity, they were about to encounter a ship much bigger than they were. Backup? Overeager pirates hoping to pick off a weakened ship? _Cinder?_ They were about to find out.

"Oh _hell,_" Yang pointing above them. "Seems, uh, cavalry just arrived."

A jet-black frigate had jumped in, just above them and staring face-to-face with the frozen Leviathan.

Ren watched in awe as the frigate opened fire on the Grimm. It was a broadside like he'd never seen before—the thing had guns like a capital ship, and with its solid black exterior, there was really only one ship in the entire galaxy it could be: the _Raven_. Named for its dread captain and demonstrating it's fearsome reputation as its salvo ripped apart the frozen Leviathan in a burst of blinding white light.

There was only one thought on his mind: What the _hell_ was Raven Branwen doing so far out here, and what was their luck that they'd cross paths with her? Was she working for Cinder? Or was she after Weiss for ransom? Or did she have her own nefarious plans for the schematics Blake was carrying? Whatever her interest in the ship was, Ren knew it literally could not be good.

He pulled out a pair of long knives he kept for fighting off boarders. He was far more skilled with his pistols, but a gun was far too risky a weapon for use in the glorified tin can that kept the air in and the cold vacuum of space out. Still, against the Branwen Gang, whatever strategy they took would likely end with the ship ripped apart. When their boarding action failed, if they didn't overwhelm them with numbers, they'd simply train their guns on the ship and blow them to pieces and pick through the scrap. It was the one ship as bad as Cinder's to encounter, and it had the drop on them.

He gripped his blades tightly. No matter what happened, he wasn't going to go down without a fight, and neither was anyone else on the _Juniper_.

* * *

"What _ship_ is that?" Jaune cried out, but Yang wasn't listening.

The _Raven_ was now flying parallel to the _Juniper_, both dwarfing them and revealing the arsenal bristling on the surface of the ship. It looked even more wicked than it used to, as they'd somehow managed to squeeze even more guns on the damn thing.

She stood there, on the command deck. The distance didn't matter—a thousand miles away and she could see those red eyes in perfect detail. Lilac and red met across the void, neither willing to blink or give any sign of weakness. She could hear Jaune in the background, trying to prepare for a boarding party, but Yang knew that none of that mattered.

She was here for her.

Yang squared her shoulders and kept her gaze fixed, until, finally, Raven concluded her test. She nodded. And with that, the ship pulled away.

"Who… what just _happened?_"

"That was my mother."

"Wait, your _mother_ is-"

"Not important. But she got what she came here for, so she'll stay out of our way."

With that, she strode out of the cockpit and back to her quarters. Nobody tried to stop her, or follow, or ask any questions, which, whether from shock or respect, she appreciated. But as she stepped down the hall, she realized that the tears she was expecting simply… didn't come. There was no sorrow, no familial rage, no crushing sense of loss and distance from her own past. She had faced her mother and felt… nothing. But a good nothing, not a hollow nothing, as though the weight had been lifted and she could finally say, _I'm past this_. No, she could finally say, _To hell with her!_ Yang had stared down that monster on her own terms and hadn't blinked. She had her companions, her crew, beside her, and now that she had her mother's cruel approval, she realized: it wasn't worth a damn thing. She pumped her fist into the air and whooped her war cry—hers, not her mother's, not any more.

Probably should have been paying attention to her surroundings before terrifying the hell out of Weiss, but eh. She'd earned this.

* * *

**This chapter's kind of reference heavy and believe me: I do feel bad about that. The title is a line from Michel Serres' ****_The Five Senses_****, but though Pyrrha's approach is a little Serresian, I admit it has a lot more to do with "I just really liked the phrasing and hey there's a bird in the chapter." I also find Adam and the Faunus to be an awkward element to write around, so I wanted to have two characters more formally talk it through. I picked Jaune and Blake because, in this AU, Jaune's actually got the most formal education of anyone in the group (though "educated" should, of course, not be taken as a synonym for "smart") and Blake's a bit more inclined towards theory than the show version, so it made sense they'd be able to quote theory. Jaune's quote is specifically a paraphrase from Brazilian theorist Paulo Freire, and I think it summarizes what Rooster Teeth was going for with Adam. **

**After the next chapter, though, I'll be taking a brief hiatus to give me some more time to rebuild my backlog, which will help make sure I can finish the story on a regular pace. Thank you for your patience!**


	9. Hero's Welcome

How long had it been since she had last enjoyed a quiet game of chess?

Weiss moved her holographic bishop across the board. "In all this time," she murmured, "I never knew you were interested in chess."

"Not _that_ interested," Yang responded, moving a pawn. "My old man, though, was crazy about it. Loved chess, made sure his daughters knew how to play."

"Wait, _Ruby_ knows how to play chess?"

Yang's face darkened, and Weiss realized she'd touched on an unfortunate subject. "Well, dad kind of… lost his passion for the game, after Summer died. He taught Ruby a little, but… he just never had that same energy, you know?"

They played in sympathetic silence for a while. Yang was surprisingly good at chess—well, she corrected herself, it wasn't that surprising. For as much as Yang presented herself as an impulsive and forceful barbarian (and screamed like one), her travels with Yang had proven she was a very attentive and analytical thinker. More importantly, she was a worthy opponent because she wasn't afraid of offending the Crown Princess, and absolutely would not let her win.

Yang very nearly had her when Jaune's voice over the intercom interrupted their game.

"Attention passengers," Jaune crackled. From his voice, it seemed he'd recovered some of the self-confidence he'd lost on Torchwick Station. "We've now crossed into Atlessian space. We are now looking to make route to Atlas. The crew of the _Juniper_ would like to thank you for flying with us, and to consider us for all your future fleeing from villain needs."

"Time to deploy the beacon, eh, Princess?" Yang smiled, "Also, check."

Her words brought a stab of anxiety that had nothing to do with her rook's placement. As Crown Princess of Atlas, she had a concealed distress beacon set to a secret frequency, a means of sending a clear, simple message in case of emergencies. And now was the time to use it. This was good news, extremely good news, that they were back to safe territory, and that she could deliver Blake and the plans to where they needed to be to stop Cinder. But activating it was also the first step before seeing her father for the first time since she had hired Yang and disappeared off the radar. She awkwardly moved a pawn and mumbled a response while she looked away.

Yang put her hand on Weiss's arm and said, "Hey, look at me," as she pulled her back into eye contact. "I know that look. And I know it means there's something that you're trying to tough through on your own that you really shouldn't."

"It's just… it's silly. After everything we've done and everyone we've faced, I'm still just this scared, little girl who-"

"Hey!" This was another side of Yang, the Mama Bear, who would knock the whole world down for her friends. "It's okay that that's happening, alright? None of our enemies raised you, none of them can get in your head like parents can. You… you know I saw Raven on the ship, right?"

Her hands shot to cover her mouth. Yang had confided in Weiss once about her mother, the things she had experienced under her command, things she had been sworn to never tell another soul, even Ruby. "Oh, Yang, I'm so sorry, I hadn't-"

"It's okay. I don't know what she wanted, but I also kind of don't care? It was really kind of a cathartic moment," she chuckled, but then grew serious. "Listen. Nobody screws you up like parents, and you can't blame anyone but them for it."

"Ok," she answered softly, as she removed a small metal ball off her necklace, twisted the two halves until the code was entered, and clicked it together. A small blue light flashed, and she pocketed the device. A signal was now being sent out to Atlas's highest-level listening posts. Soon, a ship would be on their way to escort her back to the palace. Unless her father chose to overreact, as usual, in which case, the First Fleet would probably be assembled around them.

"Good. Now let's change the subject."

She dearly loved her friend, but she couldn't resist taking a quick shot. "Oh? Would you prefer if we were talking about Blake?"

"Would you prefer if we talked about my sister?" Yang replied with an unbearably smug smile.

Weiss shot her a quick glare of mortified fury, but relented. "Alright… no talk about relationships."

"Oh, it's a relationship now?"

"…shut up, Yang."

* * *

Pyrrha walked down the length of the ship. These routine inspections had always been a meditative time for her, a chance to fall into her routine and put her mind towards thinking things through. But now… she was attuned to the Aura once more, feeling the thrum and pulse of life through the ship made her feel more alive than she had in years. She could _feel_ Ren's precise, diligent analysis as he updated the ship's inventory, the _buzz_ of a dreaming Nora, or Yang and Weiss's deep well of empathy and care. It was hard not to feel good about everything. She was a Maiden again, there was a chance to make things right, and she had a student who she took endless pride in. Everything seemed brighter, more optimistic.

Well, not everything.

It seemed that her curse had transferred over to Jaune. As her mood waxed, his waned, and just in time for her to be extremely perceptive of his state of mind. He had put on a smiling front for everyone else on the ship, but even without her Aura, Pyrrha could see right through it. Torchwick had gotten him good, even if Jaune had been the ultimate winner of their contest. His mood seemed to further darken as their journey came to an end. Jaune had always been open to her about his, well, insecurities, and traveling with a group as overtly heroic as Weiss's companions might have amplified them. But, she nervously bit her lip, didn't she have a way to… make things better? If he knew just how much she cared for him, surely that would help, right? And, as the tiny voice in the back of her head suggested, it was hard to be insecure when a beautiful woman has you pinned against the wall.

No, she shook her head, that wasn't the answer. He had been there for her, at her worst. He'd never taken advantage of her infatuation, and she owed him that much. He needed a friend now, and that's what she'd be. She banished her thoughts and made a point to visit Jaune in the cockpit once she had finished her rounds. There wasn't much left to do, just a quick sweep to make a mental note of where everyone was, check for any damages or unseen stowaways, and keep an eye open for any developing problems. Very quick work, but she had to admit, she was taking it a little faster than she usually did.

She entered the cockpit to find Jaune giving Ruby another piloting lesson.

"-so what you're gonna want to do, then, is kind of stagger your thrusters, not so much like you've got engine problems, like that, yeah, enough that a careless observer thinks you're a much more rundown vessel than you are. Keeps them off their-"

Pyrrha raised an eyebrow. "You're teaching her _blockade running?_"

"Oh, hey Pyr," Jaune answered, embarrassed. "Just wanted to, uh, give her some practical knowledge, in case she ever, uh-"

"Finds herself on the crew of a smuggling vessel?" She had responded playfully, though she knew she was treading on a difficult matter. As they crossed into Atlessian territory, the question they had been able to ignore in all the recent excitement now loomed inevitably. What happens next? Once they reached their destination, there was little binding the whole group together, since, after all, they'd only known each other for a week. But Pyrrha and Ruby were now bound together, and that raised questions that would need imminent answers. Would Ruby leave the princess's service to travel with Pyrrha? Or would Pyrrha leave the _Juniper_ behind?

Ruby's chipper optimism cut through her thoughts. "You never know! When I first started travelling with Yang, I never thought I'd be working for a princess, or be friends with a terrorist, or studying under a Mai-" she caught the word in her mouth, but not fast enough. She shot Pyrrha a terrified glance, but she met it with her own, disarming one. He'd have to find out sooner or later, even if this wasn't how she'd have preferred to have told him.

Fortunately, for once, Jaune's obliviousness was in her favor. He'd been distracted by a notification on his display. An approaching ship warning, so she took a moment to glance at the sensors. She moved to sharpen the image, though, judging from the size, she didn't really need to. "Atlessian for sure. Looks like cruiser-class, might want to let the princess know."

Jaune flipped the intercom on. "Attention any Atlessian Royals on board: We've just encountered a Royal Atlessian Military vessel you may wish to be aware of."

At that, Weiss seemed to teleport into the room, with Yang close behind. Within seconds, a yellow light illuminated the console, letting them know that the ship was hailing them. Jaune activated the viewscreen, bringing up the image of a woman who looked surprisingly like Weiss, if Weiss was a slightly taller, _extremely_ more orderly woman in a military uniform.

"This is Commander Winter Schnee," she barked, "to the vessel designated _Juniper_. We are ordering the immediate surrender of your ship and all crew and to immediately submit to being boarded."

Well, that was unexpected. But Pyrrha thought she'd like to see them try—military or no, a ship with two Maidens aboard, even if one was only a beginner, wasn't going to be taken by boarders.

"Winter! I'm alright! These are my friends, they-"

"Princess Schnee, please inform your kidnappers that the Atlessian military does not negotiate with hostage takers. Tell them to stand down and surrender _immediately_."

Jaune shot Pyrrha a terrified glance, though when she quietly signaled _Fight?_ to him, he immediately and fiercely shook his head _no. _Well, that made sense enough. This was, after all, the whole point of their journey, though she didn't enjoy having to surrender so readily to someone so… aggressive.

"We will," Jaune nervously stammered, "surrender the ship to you, Commander. Though we're not kid-"

He was cut off as Winter Schnee switched off the transmission. Pyrrha felt the static crackle across the back of her neck, the clear sign of the forces teleporting aboard her ship, and sighed as she prepared herself for her imminent detention.

* * *

Jaune groaned as he stumbled into the waiting room. The rest of his crew, as well as Ruby and Yang, were there, and gave him a sympathetic look as he flopped down in a seat. They all looked exhausted, with one obvious exception.

"Welcome back, Fearless Leader!" Nora cried as she leapt across the room. "I hope you had a really cool head-to-head, high stakes negotiation for our freedom in there! Nobody talked to me at all, and it was ALL! SO! BORING!"

"They evidently found Nora, err, difficult to understand," Ren clarified, "They found her account of our journey largely implausible."

"But we totally _did_ fight a super-Grimm and a space witch and there were a whole bunch of duels and we all learned important life lessons!" Probably best to let her just… say whatever and not contradict her. Like most things with Nora.

They had been seized by Atlessian soldiers, taken from the _Juniper_, held in a detainment room aboard Winter's ship, taken to an "undisclosed military facility" on Atlas, and then forcefully debriefed… until an apologetic man came in to the room and explained to his interrogator that they _were_ in the employ of the princess and were actually honored guests of the Kingdom. But Jaune didn't get a chance to enjoy the turn of events, because it simply meant he had to be debriefed _again,_ by a new, this time more polite, set of interrogators. It had been a particularly grueling experience for him, as captain of the vessel and (briefly) presumed lead kidnapper, but he had to assume Yang had the worst of it, being Weiss's bodyguard. But she seemed to be feeling a lot better than he was. "How you holding up, Yang?"

"Would be bad, but…" her voice had an odd quality to it, like she was still marveling at her experiences, "Man, I've been yelled at by authority figures all my life, my dad, teachers, local police, station masters, like, _everything,_" she splayed her arms out to emphasize her point, "But I've never been yelled at by a _Prime Minister_ before. It was like, like a religious experience, like I'd really, truly made it as a hoodlum."

They all shared a laugh at this, but Jaune was fairly certain Yang wasn't joking.

"So…" Ruby started with a small voice, "What do we do now? Is Weiss coming here?"

Ah, this was the hard part. From the conversation he'd had with the Atlessian officials he'd spoken too, the sense was very much that _he_ wouldn't probably see Weiss again, not for a very long while at the least. The bureaucrats were already arranging the fulfillment of the payment Weiss had originally promised, with a considerable bonus, and, more importantly, they had offered him a commission, as a reward for "rescuing the princess." It was an easy, well-paying placement overseeing a mining operation, the sort of reward that promised a cushy and safe, if uninteresting, life for him and his crew. Basically, everything they'd ever wanted. But the message was clear: _We thank you for saving our princess, but take your money and leave, because that you saved her is an embarrassment to the State_. But it was the way they looked at him, like they knew that _he_ knew they were buying him off, and worse, that they knew any protests he might have were just for show. It was one thing to say you're not a hero, it's another thing entirely when the bureaucracy says it.

He cleared his throat, "Well, from the sound of things, Weiss and Blake are busy handling the actual issues related to this trip, so we've been offered a few guest apartments for the time being, while they sort things out. Since we've got nothing else to wait for here, and there's not much we can do to speed up the process, I say we just take the opportunity to relax while we can. Have a good night's sleep, and then look into this in the morning."

Pyrrha backed him up. "Jaune's right, there's nothing to be gained by waiting here. I'm sure sleep will help us feel better and look at this more clear-headedly."

But as she spoke, Pyrrha gave him a knowing look that pierced him even worse than any torture his interrogators might have had for him.

* * *

The soft fabric of her dress felt uncomfortable. It was too restricting, too delicate to even move around in. They barely felt like clothes. Still, she had to keep up appearances. The Kingdom would only listen to a respectable diplomat, so she had to look the part, or all their efforts were for naught. She could endure a little discomfort for that.

Before she had time to marvel at the irony, her father entered her room. He wore a neat, crisp military uniform with epaulettes and medals of his rank. His moustache was perfectly styled. He was, in every respect, the King of Atlas. She'd never noticed how ridiculous he looked in his getup. He seemed… smaller than she remembered.

She rose to greet him, "Father. It's good to see you again."

"I'm glad to see you're safe." His voice, however, had no warmth or paternal care in it. "Would you care to explain the circumstances of your recent disappearance?"

"Certainly. I apologize for the abruptness-" Her father snorted at that, the sort of undignified act that she'd been long trained to avoid as a sign of disrespect. She stifled her glare and continued. "-the abruptness of my departure, but I've come across a matter crucial to the safety of the Kingdom, indeed, the galaxy altogether. With the help of a White Fang defector-"

"Ah, yes," her father seemed to have run out of patience, "the Faunus girl you've been travelling with. I'm certain she's been telling you quite enough stories about the endless oppression of her people and how they've simply been _forced_ to be terrorists and murderers."

"I have _seen_ what she's talking-"

"You have seen _nothing!_" His anger was sudden and explosive. He seemed to tower over her, like she was still a child. "Your behavior has been unbecoming of a member of the Royal Family, going on some childish _adventure,_ and this… this _nonsense_ you've been spouting is quite unacceptable! You're liable to cause a panic, with these wild tales this… this _Faunus_ has been telling you."

"Blake has the detailed schematics of a ship capable of incapacitating-"

"Don't you realize that's what they want you to think! That they're imminently poised for victory and empowered by ridiculous space-magic! They took you for a mark, girl!" He took a second to try to contain his anger, but Weiss could see his fists were still clenched, and his voice betrayed the intensity of his rage. "No, Weiss, you have embarrassed this family enough! You _will _stay put and you _will _let us handle it with no more silly fancies! You are confined to your room for the present time to give you a chance to think about your role in this family!"

With that, he slammed the door and stormed out of the room.

Weiss gritted her teeth. _Don't cry_, she thought, _do anything else, but you will not cry_.

Still, unbidden tears sprang up in her eyes as her vision clouded. She threw herself on her bed, like she was still a child, throwing a tantrum after being denied a toy. She wanted to rage, to tear the bed apart and dismantle the room, to rip apart all the trappings of this fake life. This wasn't her! She wasn't a damned spoiled princess, living in a luxurious tower, far from the troubles of the world. The woman she was now was one who had gone out into the world, for all its ugliness and hardship, and it had changed her. She'd seen it with her own two eyes, and she would not go back to who she was before!

She took a deep breath. Rage wouldn't fix this problem. It was better than crying, but it wouldn't really help. She was locked in a room in a highly secure building that stood between her and her friends—as well as the safety of the entire galaxy.

Taking stock of her situation, it became quickly obvious that she had a lot more unknowns than she'd like. She didn't know what the situation was with Yang or Blake, or the _Juniper_, or, especially, what was going on with the fleet. Certainly, action would be taken against the White Fang, Atlas had been looking for an excuse to do that, but without warning about the capabilities of the _Basilisk_, they were just heading straight into a trap. As for her companions, she could guess. It would risk an embarrassment to detain them, and her father's biggest aim would obviously be to prevent that. His strategy would be deflection—pay them money, give them a reward, tell them that she was too busy to see them, then encourage them to leave. Yang, she knew, wouldn't abandon her, and Ruby wouldn't be fooled by the deception one bit. Jaune's crew… was more unknown. They didn't owe her anything more than what she paid for, and her father would be sure to reward them, likely with something that got them out of his hair. But if she'd learned anything from her trip, they were far from the disreputable mercenaries she assumed they were when Yang first hired them.

The real problem was with Blake. She had none of the protections her other friends had—nobody would raise a fuss if the royal family had a Faunus indefinitely detained. Or worse, she fretted. But Blake was a capable woman, and, more importantly, once her friends realized what was going on, she was sure they would know to prioritize rescuing Blake over her. Blake had the schematics and the inside knowledge of the White Fang's plans and locations. If Blake could get to the right person—her sister, perhaps—they could still analyze the schematics and prepare a countermeasure, and, if they were fast enough, they could still save the fleet and destroy the _Basilisk_!

She glanced around the room, trying to remember as much as she could from her time with Yang. All the lessons she had once thought of as flights of fancy, as her chance to be a tourist in a much more exciting world, now had an imminent relevance. It was all on her; there would be no rescue for the princess. She was going to break out of the Royal Palace, she was going to get to her friends, and she was going to stop Cinder Fall.

Now all she had to do was figure out how.

* * *

**END OF ACT 2**

* * *

**Act 2 Coda**

Roman Torchwick idly glanced through system reports. All good news, but it was the boring kind, tedious updates on revenue collection and maintenance requests. He was good on adventure for the moment, but he'd prefer if he had some moderation, something between "way out of my league" and "watch numbers go up."

An alert notification gave a welcome break. He reached up to silence the alarm, and winced. The burn on his arm wasn't healing right—obviously the witch knew some way to make sure that happened—and a single careless movement made his skin scream out in agony. At the least, he could take some small satisfaction in knowing that the insufferable green-haired toady had surely faced much worse punishment for letting her target escape. Grumbling, he grit his teeth and clicked on the notification.

It was a report from a tracker Roman had planted on a ship—a not uncommon tactic he employed in his loan sharking and other businesses, it was useful to know where certain people were—but this tracker was a special priority. It let him know that a certain ship had made it to Atlas, a ship he'd risked quite a lot for_,_ he thought as he massaged his burn.

He sent a summons to Neo, who promptly entered—apparently, she'd just been waiting outside the door, which would have startled him, years ago, but now he'd learned to expect it. She was a lurker by nature—good when you needed her keeping an eye on someone, bad when she was keeping an eye on you. But that was what she was, so there was no point in jumping at it.

"Good news," he said, gesturing to the monitor, "Seems your old flame made it out alright."

The glare she shot him was easy enough to read. Still, he couldn't resist poking the bear. "So, how long were you two… _lovers?_"

She held up two fingers with a sly grin. "Two weeks?" He whistled. "That's impressive. Good for the kid." He meant it. Neo had a love of… _passionate_ relationships that, by their nature, didn't last long. If they were smart, they got the hell out of dodge before things went sour. That Jaune had apparently managed to end things amicably spoke well of the kid… or he just got really lucky. That was more likely—two weeks of a relationship, left to take a job, and Neo forgot she had been dating him by the time he got back. Kid did seem to live a charmed life.

Neo was giving him a piercing look, the kind he knew all to well was her judgmental look. Not the "Why didn't you let me kneecap that guy for disrespecting you" judgmental look or the "There absolutely was ice cream in the freezer this morning you goddamn liar" judgmental look, but the rarest one: the "You could have done more" judgmental look.

But it was a futile gesture. Nobody could have done nothing, and she knew it as well as him. "Don't tell me you bought into this hero crap did you? Seriously, what do you think we're gonna do about this? You got some crazy magic powers I haven't heard about, or a hidden fleet up your sleeve?" She seemed to relent on that note. The pain in his arm came back, punctuating his remarks as a stark reminder of exactly what position he was in. "They're on their own, now. Not like we could help them any. If anything's gonna happen, they're gonna be the ones to do it."


	10. In Case of Emergency, Break Glass

Blake had always been an exceptional student.

She was an avid reader, a patient listener, and had an ever-curious mind. With a more traditional childhood, she might have excelled from an early age in academics and grown up to be a great writer, scientist, or politician. But in the absence of a traditional childhood, the White Fang had been her schooling, and she had learned from it well.

She was a lockpick, hacker, burglar, spy, and saboteur. She could evade security cameras, scale walls, incapacitate guards, and plant explosives. She had successfully breached prisons and armories, intercepted military communications, and organized daring heists. The Kingdom of Atlas had imprisoned her, for the time being, but this wouldn't be her first prison break.

More like a _prison Blake_ she smiled, then her mouth twisted in revulsion at the realization that, in the absence of Yang, her mind apparently felt the need to keep up the supply of puns. She'd only been in lockup for a day and she was already losing it.

Calming herself, she took stock of her situation. This wasn't a serious facility. Yes, it was nominally a military prison, but from the looks of things, it was not one that ever saw many prisoners. The guards were clearly amateurish, and processing had been a nightmare—she could overhear at a shift change that her current guards hadn't even been notified there would be a prisoner before he'd arrived. They were careless with their gossip as well, and she was able to hear quite a bit of Atlas's perspective.

What she heard wasn't good—it seems her warnings about Cinder and the _Basilisk _had been dismissed without a thought, but a force was being dispatched to the coordinates she had given to "rough up some White Fang plot." General Ironwood, a name even Blake knew as a distinguished Atlessian military hero, had been dispatched to carry it out. His defeat, and almost certain death, would be a disaster, both in the panic it would no doubt inspire, but also as a rallying point for bigots to seek revenge on Faunus communities. She could not allow this to happen.

But her subconscious had already told her what she needed to do—seems it was time to take a page from Yang's book.

She unbuttoned her top two buttons and tried her best to recreate how she remembered Yang's way of draping herself across furniture. She was inexperienced and her prison cot was not a complimentary piece of furniture, but on the plus side, she had a lot of memories to work off of. It wasn't long before she caught a guard's eye. She _purred_, and she could see the way the slack-jawed moron's eyes lit up as he let himself into her cell.

Overpowering him had been embarrassing. Her guard was hardly elite, someone influential enough to score an easy job in the palace, but not influential enough to get a job with a real chance of promotion. She slammed his face against the cell wall and, once he was out, picked through his equipment. Radio, baton, stun gun… ah, his security keycard. Now armed, it was all too easy to ambush his partner when he made his rounds. Two men out, and she had access to a computer terminal—with the password clearly written on a note. A quick glance through the security systems interface confirmed that they were, as expected, a joke.

Would that all her operations went this easily.

However, she knew that her imprisonment wasn't the real challenge—once outside the prison, she'd be a lone Faunus in a foreign city with no way of getting to the people she needed to speak to. The breakout was a huge risk, and the only way to make it pay off would be getting to Weiss—who would be under _real_ security in the palace. Blake idly chewed on a pen as she tried to think her way out of the problem. Surely, the Atlessian's had given her companions an explanation for why Blake was separated from them—something to do with verifying her information or some other processing. But she had no doubt that Weiss would see through that deception immediately: she'd know what to be looking for, and Atlas would never think one of their own could legitimately be friends with a Faunus. But Weiss would probably also be sequestered from her friends—certainly in a nicer suite than Blake had enjoyed, but just as restrictive.

Any hope she had could only be found by finding Yang or Jaune—they'd be with the rest of the group, they'd have access to the _Juniper_, and that would expand her options considerably. They could fill her in on the score, and they could plan a way to break Weiss out or, possibly, move to intercept General Ironwood before they left.

She punched through some exchanges, looking for what she could find on where her friends were being kept. As she predicted, everyone but her and Weiss had been released and given temporary apartments in one of the side buildings in the palace complex. A place to stay until they'd been paid off and could be sent away. It took a bit of searching to get actual room numbers, but their informational security was being handled with roughly the same competence as her imprisonment. Annoying to know the Kingdom that had given her people this much hardship could be so amateurish, but, she rationalized to herself, from their perspective, they weren't a real problem. Just a wayward princess and a crew of oddities and hangers-on that could be dealt with as an annoyance, rather than a threat.

It was already in the evening when she snuck outside, with the sun mostly set. Darkness was her friend as she slipped her way across the complex. The palace's architecture was, she was forced to admit, magnificent, but what she really appreciated in its design was the obscuring sight lines and good hiding places that made it easy to sneak to where her friends were. Judging from the lights, and the noise, it wasn't hard to figure out which rooms were occupied, and so, once she felt the coast was clear, she set to accessing the building.

As she scaled up to their window, she could see some of her friends, Yang, Ruby, Blake, and Nora at least, gathered in the middle of a well-furnished living room, having a fairly animated conversation over drinks. Feeling a little annoyed at the contrast between hers and their accommodations, she decided she'd sneak into the apartment, give them a little scare. She silently cracked the window, conversation now spilling through.

"Yeah, but Yang agrees with me."

"I agreed it'd be _cool_, not that it would work."

"It's just adding a huge gun, I can figure that out in my—gods above, it's _Blake!_"

"Hey guys," she said, in total nonchalance, slipping herself through the window to the extreme surprise of her friends. "How's it going?"

It took Yang a minute to form words. "What… Blake, what are you- what's happening?"

"Atlas was… less than open to our help. Kind of got ignored, sidelined, also, they threw me in prison. The usual."

"They _imprisoned_ you?"/"Was the breakout cool?" Yang and Nora immediately replied.

"Yes. To both." Alright, enough fooling. Blake knew it was time to get serious. "But we've got to move fast and figure out what we're doing. Atlas is sending a force right into a trap as we speak, and if we can't stop them, everything we've done has been for nothing."

Yang was quiet, but Blake could read on her face that her mind was putting together something that only made her angrier. She slammed her fist on the table, "You're too late! Ironwood's already off—with Weiss's sister, by the way—and if they didn't even bother to analyze the plans, _we_ don't even know if it even has some weakness to exploit."

"That's… not true," Ruby cut in. "Yeah, we don't know if the _Basilisk_ has some hidden weak point from the schematics, _but_ we know how it works now, right? It's Cinder—if Pyrrha and I can take out Cinder together, the whole ship's just a big piece of junk."

It wasn't a plan Blake liked, but it did have a certain logic to it—from Ruby's description, in a square fight, only thing that beat a Maiden was another Maiden, and Ruby had been victorious against Cinder once before—even if it had been mostly luck. "If we did that, we'd have to leave now. If we went right to the coordinates I gave Atlas, we might just be able to catch them and turn them around …and if we had to fight, well, we know where Cinder would be. Where's Weiss?"

Yang sighed. "Haven't been able to see her—and believe me, I've been trying. I've gotta assume now that she hasn't seen us because she isn't allowed to. And… it doesn't seem like we'd have time to spring her before we've got to save that fleet."

"I think she'd… rather we saved the day, even if it was without her." A hard decision, but the clock was ticking. Weiss would have made the same decision in her place. "And Jaune and Pyrrha?"

Ren was quick with the answer, "They're in Jaune's quarters," _Oh, really now?_ "Nora and I can fetch them—Yang knows where the _Juniper_ is, so you three can head straight to the ship and get it ready to launch."

Before he'd even finished speaking, Nora was already out the door, with Ren quick on her heels. Yang and Ruby were already grabbing what kit they needed for their mission—seems they weren't even fully unpacked yet, and were already itching for an excuse to make a quick getaway.

Yang smiled at her. "Time to save the day?"

She smiled back. "You know it."

* * *

Ren raced slightly behind Nora to get to Jaune's apartment. They'd all been appointed guest rooms in one of the lesser palaces—a sequence of words Ren was barely able to comprehend as something that could exist—but Jaune had been quartered on a separate floor from the rest of them. "To facilitate negotiations," their captain had explained—he was the unofficial spokesman between their group and the Atlessian officials. The level of luxury made it impossible for Ren to comprehend if Jaune's quarters were nicer than theirs, but it did seem that his room had more space for conducting meetings.

Nora slammed into the door at top speed, and it took all of Ren's strength to keep her from simply making another attempt and knocking the door down. Jaune, of course, recognized how Nora knocked on doors and was quick to open it.

"Is Pyrrha still here?" As Ren spoke, he was quick to move into the room—what they were about to discuss was risky anywhere, but foolish to talk about in an open hallway.

"No, she, uh, she just left."

"We've got to find her, quick—Blake just broke out of prison, she's been shut out and an Atlessian military hero is being sent right into a trap—we've got to get to them before-"

"Wait, do we have a plan at all?"

His question took the wind out of Ren entirely—was this really Jaune? Was _he_ the one telling _Jaune_ a plan that _Jaune _had to be the voice of reason on? Now that he was thinking, Ren realized that this Jaune seemed to have an almost entirely different affect than his usually boisterous captain. He looked haggard, drained—like the trajectory he'd been on ever since they fled Roman hadn't been averted by their successful delivery of Weiss and company to Atlas.

Nora, however, was undeterred. "We've got a great plan! We're gonna teleport Pyrrha and Ruby on the ship, they're gonna kill somebody or something, and I wasn't really listening, but Ren approved, so it sounded great! Are you in, Fearless Leader?"

"No." Ren and Nora reeled at his reply. "I'm not in. It's a suicide mission—what am I going to do that Atlas can't?"

"Jaune," Ren's mind whirled as he tried to piece together what was going on. "What are you _talking _about?"

"I'm not going. Roman was right—I'm not a hero. I'm just a guy-

Nora cut him off. "Jaune, Roman's never been right about anything!"

"Well he was right about me!" Jaune shot back. "I'm just a guy who's been in the wrong place at the wrong time. What am I even going to _do_ against a _Grimm superweapon?_" Jaune's anger seemed to break as he could not longer maintain eye contact with Ren and his voice became quiet, almost remorseful. "I'm not going to stop you from taking the _Juniper._ It's not like it's my ship, more than any of ours. I've been offered a position overseeing a mining colony outside-"

"No, Jaune, let's… we'll go grab Pyrrha, she can talk this-" But then it clicked. "You've already spoken with Pyrrha, haven't you?"

His voice was hollow. "Yes, we talked, and I'm not what… I'm not the person Pyrrha needs right now. I'm not what she thinks-"

"You _idiot_," Nora snarled in a voice Ren had never heard before, "She loves you! She's _always_-"

Ren gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Jaune, _please_, think about this." But his friend, sadly, still kept his eyes averted. Ren wasn't sure what he was feeling—Anger? Pity? Disappointment? Sadness? Some mix of all of them, plus some new emotions to process? Whatever it was, he knew that his friend was in a place they couldn't berate or console out of—not in the time they had. It killed him to do this, to abandon him at this time (and trying not to think of how much he'd seen the both of them through), but they didn't have a choice.

"If… you've made up your mind, you've made up your mind. But please, think about what you're doing, what you're doing to _us_. …I'm sorry, Jaune." He guided Nora to the door, but couldn't stop himself from looking back on his way out. Jaune couldn't meet his eyes, but he still whispered one last plea. "Please… it's not to late to change your mind."

He merely shook his head as they closed the door.

* * *

Yang had always thought well of Jaune—he seemed to be a decent enough guy, and she couldn't really blame him for finding himself in over his head, but at the same time, she really _could_ blame him. Could blame him for a lot of things. As they assembled in the _Juniper_ she couldn't help but notice how his absence seemed to affect every member of her crew. Ren was stoic, as always, but she could tell his anger ran deep. Ruby seemed rattled by this, unsure how to reconcile this betrayal with her optimism. Even Blake, who, as far as Yang knew, barely _knew_ the guy, seemed deeply disappointed. But Nora and Pyrrha… they were devastated. Pyrrha kept herself together, but she did it by taking a state of utter detachment, a pure focus on the mission—and nothing else. This could very likely be a suicide mission, but even for that, the mood was dire.

Yang was an experienced captain, but this kind of emotional care wasn't really her forte. More of a Weiss thing, or even a Ruby thing. She figured a failed speech or pep talk would just make things worse—they had a job to do, either in diverting the fleet or defeating Cinder, something they had to do for the good of the galaxy. They just had to focus on the mission. She punched through the takeoff routine, appreciating the feel of the ship in her hands as it left the dock in Atlas—Ruby hadn't been wrong, the _Juniper_ was a damn impressive ship.

In spite of carrying a fugitive from an Atlessian military prison, there had been no difficulty in leaving the dock. Jaune's work, she begrudgingly assumed, in setting up a "yes we're leaving" situation that the Atlessian forces were more than happy to facilitate. But as she left Atlas's atmosphere, she realized that, if this was a suicide mission, there was something she had to do. She asked Ren to take the controls, who obliged with a knowing look—he, of course, seemed to know exactly what she had in mind.

It wasn't hard to find Blake, seated right next to the ladder to the ship's main gun. It was a top mounted four-point, swivel-mounted alternating burst laser—heavier gear than what a civilian ship ought to be carrying, but a nice piece for travel off the beaten path. Blake seemed to have taken a liking to it. She looked up as Yang approached.

"Aren't you supposed to be flying the ship?"

"Ren's covering. Besides," ugh, she did not want to have this conversation but not more than she didn't not want to have this conversation, "I think we should probably… clear the air about some things."

"In case we die?"

"Yeah."

They both were quiet. Yang remembered when she first met Blake and had taken an instant liking to her no-bullshit attitude and willingness to put herself in extraordinary danger, approaching the _Crown Princess of Atlas _while being a member of a terrorist group, because she knew what she had to do. She liked her quiet, calming presence among the chaos of their group and her sardonic sense of humor. And yeah, she liked her body. She liked it a lot. Yang knew she was trash, she didn't have to defend herself to anyone.

But they'd never gone anywhere beyond some light flirtation and joking. In fact, they'd pretty quickly _backed off_ from that, probably around the time they realized that they weren't joking as much as they might have thought they were. She could feel herself falling for the girl, and she had to admit: it scared her. Someone who could make her feel like that could make her do anything, and that went against everything she'd ever learned.

Time for courage. "Listen," she swallowed, "I think we-"

And then Blake kissed her.

She almost staggered back from the surprise, but her instincts saved her as she met Blake's kiss with her own. It was… It was glorious. It was unlike anything she'd ever had in her entire life of one night stands and casual relationships, exciting and warm and comforting and a hundred other things. It was the experience of all her feelings for Blake, mirrored and returned to her, with a wave of relief that her feelings were shared, were reciprocated.

"There's so many things I want to say—that I've been _wanting_ to say. But we can't, not now. We need a captain who's got her mind on the mission. But if we get out of this alive," she whispered, "we can do a whole lot more."

Yang smiled, the most genuine smile she'd had in a long while, and agreed. "I'm going to hold you to that."

"You'd better. Now get back to the helm. We still have to save the day."

Her feet felt like they barely connected with the floor as she walked back to the cockpit. Yeah, desperate mission with low chance of success, flying almost certainly into terrible danger—but hadn't she just done that? And it worked out better than she could have hoped. No messy speeches, no awkward let-you-down-gently, just the both of them at long last admitting something they both knew to be true. Maybe this was just silly relationship drama, and it had no bearing on their mission, but now she had _hope_. No matter how she had it, there was something to give a bit of light before heading in. As she moved back to the pilot's seat, Ren gave her a sly grin—she had no doubt he could read everything that happened just from her smile.

As they reached the jump point, she entered the coordinates Blake had given the Atlessians. So long as they could catch up to the ship, they might be able to convince them they were headed into a trap. A hard sell, but doable, she was even already writing a speech in her head. If they caught up to them _after_ they'd met the _Basilisk_, their only hope would be to get Pyrrha and Ruby in range to board and take out Cinder. A much longer shot, but it was the best they were going to have.

She'd gotten used to (or, at least, used enough to) the _Juniper's_ bootstrap engines ripping the ship forward at near-jump speed, but the lurch of hitting proper jump speed seemed to almost knock the lunch out of her stomach. She blinked in confusion as she tried to take in the situation they had suddenly arrived at.

They were too late.

A group of Atlessian capital ships—including the cruiser that had seized them, the one, she realized with sinking dread, was commanded by Weiss's sister, and a full Dreadnought, which would have been the largest ship she'd ever seen before—were caught in a dark vortex centered around what was now the largest ship Yang had ever seen. The _Basilisk_. It hung in the air looking like a large, black disc, bristling with spiky antennae. She'd seen the schematics, she knew it'd be big, but this… It was massive, dwarfing even an Atlessian Dreadnought, almost more like an outpost station than a ship. How had the White Fang been able to _build_ this? But however they did it, they'd succeeded, and now, these half-illuminated capital ships were valiantly fighting against a cloud of Grimm, though futilely—their engines were clearly drained, and all but their point defense guns was silent.

An incoming message jostled her attention. "Attention unidentified vessel! This is Commander Winter Schnee of the Atlessian Navy—you are in grave danger and we cannot protect you! It is imperative that you leave immediately, and report to-"

A sudden flicker of power disrupted the intercom. They were in range of the _Basilisk_, and Cinder's dark power had a hold on their engines. It was as bad as when she'd caught them before—their engines were weakened, and while that monster was still running, they weren't going to be able to get out of here.

She grit her teeth. Now or never. There were roughly a billion Grimm between them and their destination, but she'd be damned if she'd let Blake down after all this. She hit the thrusters and tore forward, onward to certain doom.

* * *

**Welcome to the final act of the story! The whole act's currently drafted, and I'm very excited to finally get to post them. Things move fast and blow up over the next few chapters, and I hope you enjoy it.**

**Also, to clarify a point I've seen in the reviews—Jaune and Weiss have no romantic interest in each other. Their relationship has always been one of mutual professional respect as the "leaders" of their respective groups. Much like how Yang misjudged the realities of Jaune and Pyrrha's relationship in Ch. 3&4, Blake's just playing matchmaker, based on nothing other than it's what would happen in a romance. I felt it was in character for her to be extremely perceptive about all the reasons they ****_would_**** work well together, and still completely oblivious to the fact they aren't interested in each other.**


	11. Strength in Grace

Fundamentally, a shiv is made of two parts: a sharp, cutting part and a grip.

Yang had taught Weiss a little about improvisational weaponry, and she made use of that education as she wrapped a strip of her bedsheet around a shard of glass she'd pulled from the now-shattered mirror on her vanity. It was no substitute for Myrtenaster, but it was an effective cutting instrument and would work for what she needed.

Now all she had to do was rap on the door… done, then hide the way Blake had taught her… also done. A guard entered, carelessly, and certainly not expecting anything dangerous in the princess's bedroom, probably just a request for a servant, or to speak with her father. Weiss grinned. He had no idea what he was getting into.

"Alright, hands up," she whispered as she gently pressed the tip of the shiv into his back. "Don't make any noise or you're going to learn firsthand what a kidney puncture feels like." She applied just the slightest bit more pressure to make her point, and she delighted as the guard slowly raised his hands.

She wasn't quite sure if he surrendered because he had the drop on her, or if he knew that he couldn't possibly do anything _other_ than surrender when it was the Crown Princess who had him at knifepoint, but she'd take it, either way. Yang's explanation on how to knock a man out proved to be useful, though, and once incapacitated by a well placed thump from her desk lamp, she was able to relieve him of his equipment, keycard, and uniform. She didn't like it as much as any of the outfits Ruby had leant her, in terms of practicality, comfort, or, frankly, even fashion. It also wasn't a good fit, but it was far less obvious than any of her dresses, and her goal was to avoid any circumstances that let people take a close look at what she was wearing.

But the next part she would never forgive herself for. She pressed the call button for Klein, the family's long-serving butler, and did her best to remind herself that what she did, she did for the good of her kingdom, indeed, the entire galaxy. It still wasn't easy, and it was even harder when he entered the room and she had to look him in the eye as she pointed the blade at him and explained how he would assist in her escape.

Even as he assured her that she had nothing to reproach herself for and he was, in fact, proud of both her inventiveness and willingness to stand up to her father, Weiss felt as low as she'd ever felt before. She would have preferred to avoid him, but he was her only real source of information, and this plan, as risky and likely doomed as it was, would be worse without interrogating him. Fortunately, he was happy to answer her questions, those about where her friends were staying, what her father's orders had been with the White Fang, and how much time she might have before someone noticed.

As she predicted, Blake had been imprisoned, but she'd taken long enough to get out that she was sure Blake had beaten her to escaping, which gave her some hope. She was not the sort to spend a night in jail if she could help it, and from Klein's information, she knew Blake wasn't being kept anywhere she couldn't break out of. This raised her spirits a little—there were even odds that she'd already made her escape, and if that was the case, she might be able to catch up will all of her friends.

Her captive interrupted her thoughts. "Princess… though I suspect you would prefer to eschew titles, correct?" She nodded, not wanting to make eye contact as she knotted her bedsheets into a makeshift rope. "Do you have a plan?"

"I… I don't know," she admitted, "But I've learned a lot about improvising in the past two years."

Klein smiled at that. "You've grown so much," he mused. "Your mother would be so proud if she could see you now."

"My- Do you… do you really think so?" She practically dropped the rope at the mention of her mother. Her father didn't speak much of her, and, if not for the few portraits that still hung in the palace, she barely even knew what she looked like.

"I've served your family for a long time, Weiss. I knew your mother when she was your age, when she was quite the hellraiser. Why, she was close friends with this Faunus Rights Activists, who-" He caught the look in Weiss's eye, and cut off his rambling. "I think she'd be quite happy to see the young women her daughters had grown up to be."

"I… hope so too." She wanted to ask more, to know more about the mysterious mother who seemed to always loom just out of reach. Any knowledge about her was precious to Weiss, more precious than anything—except her friends. As dearly as she wanted to know more, she knew, with grim resolve, that she couldn't dawdle. She gave Klein a hug, then quickly tied him to the chair, using the knots she'd learned from Blake (and knowing not to even try the ones Yang had attempted to teach her).

"When they find me, I will be certain to tell them that you were headed to your father's study. That, I hope, will buy you some time." And with that, she wished him goodbye, and headed out the door, pausing briefly at the portal, marveling as she crossed it at the ease in which she transformed from "prisoner" to "escapee."

This part, at least, was something she had known how to do even before she met Yang. Blake might have been a master of ambush and evasion, but Weiss knew the palace. She hurried her way down the side corridors of the palace, making use of the childhood knowledge she and Winter had developed of which hallways and rooms were best for mischief.

It was quick work, ducking around corners and statues, slipping under security cameras and just out of sight of guards. But even pausing for a second made her heart feel like it was going to burst—less, she suspected, from fear of being caught, more simply from the terrible dread that she was already too late. From Klein, she knew that forces had already been mobilized, and they were wholly unaware of the danger they were facing. Still, she paused for a second as she slipped out of one of the palace's side entrances—a loading dock that was really only used for major events. This was the second time she'd slipped away from her father's control, but, unlike the first, this time, she couldn't merely excuse it as though she'd simply forgotten to check in with him. She'd assaulted a guard and the family butler, as well as disobeyed a direct order. She had truly crossed a line, and even though she was so panicked she could barely breathe, she smiled a little at how far she'd come.

Once out of the main palace building, security was no lighter, but it felt like she'd gotten the worst of it out of the way. In the pre-dawn darkness, things were both dark enough and empty enough that nobody paid much attention to the woman in uniform who walked with the swift, purposeful strides of someone who had somewhere to be. She knew from a lifetime of entertaining guests and diplomatic visits in which building her companions were likely kept, and Klein had been able to both confirm it and give her the exact rooms they were staying in.

As she snuck through the first door, the royal guard on duty barely even looking up as her keycard beeped her in, she noted that Jaune had been given a room on the first floor—likely because it was the one configured for meeting spaces, and he'd be the main target for her father's efforts to chase her friend's off the planet—and she elected to go straight to him. It was the easiest room to reach, and once she looped him in, he could get the rest. As a group, especially a group as armed as they were, stealth would no longer be a necessity.

She reached his room quickly. It was early, but she couldn't wait. Besides, she rationalized, he traveled with Nora Valkyrie, he knew to expect interrupted nights. How would Nora knock on the door? Easy enough to guess—she rapidly slammed her fist against the door as loudly as she could. A bewildered Jaune opened it, as she shoved him inside and hissed, "Get everyone. We've got to get ready to go, _now._"

He looked at her, blinking himself to understanding, but still half asleep. "Umm… They're with Blake… on the _Juniper._ They went after General Ironwood's ship to try to stop it."

Weiss's heart sank with the news. "What? And you're not- No, it doesn't matter. We need to get to them, _now._"

"We… can't," he yawned. "We don't have a ship-"

"We can steal one! They're in imminent danger and I am _not _sitting on the sidelines while-"

"Just the two of us?" He was no longer half-asleep as he rebutted her arguments.

She was growing frustrated with his obstinacy. "If I was able to get here, I can get us to a ship. You can fly Atlessian ships, right?"

"I don't know where they went, we can't-"

"That doesn't matter, we can… we can just-"

"Princess! There's _nothing_ we can do."

"There's always _something_ we can do!"

"Maybe, but I won't _do_ it!"

She whirled on him. "What do you want, then! Money? A title? A kiss from the princess? My hand in marriage?" she was no longer able to keep the rising hysteria from her voice, "Whatever you want, _I can get it._"

"I don't-" His voice cracked, then exploded. "I don't want anything! It's not like that!"

"Then _what is it?_"

He braced himself on the meeting table, arms splayed wide and his hands gripping deeply on the ornate wood, eyes downcast. "I'm scared, okay? I'm just scared. That's all it is. I'm in over my head and all I've done—all I've ever done—is run. I wasn't anything special in the Academy before I got thrown in prison, and it's taken everything I have to just keep treading water since! I'm not like you and Blake and Pyrrha—I'm not a hero, I thought I _wanted_ to be a hero, but I can't… I can't pretend anymore."

"You…" She didn't know what to say. "You _can't._"

"You think I don't _know_ that?" he spat, "Think I don't know that I'm a coward who abandoned his friends? I saw where they were going and I _blinked_. I couldn't do it. And I can't change it, no matter how much I want to."

Silence reigned. His look, full of regretful self-loathing said as much as his words did. Her heart seemed to sink even further into her chest—maybe he was right, and there wasn't anything they could do, maybe they didn't have a chance with anything they could try, but however bad it was, it was worse to face it alone.

Quietly, she mustered her words. "That's not true. What you said."

He laughed, a harsh, bitter thing. "I don't like it either, _but it is._"

"No, that's not… it's not true that you're not like me." She looked him in the eye. "It's because you are like me. You're exactly like me."

Jaune gave her an uncomprehending look, but let her continue speaking.

"You think I'm not scared? You think I'm like _Yang_?" She could feel the tears welling, but she forced herself through it. "You think I haven't spent every day of this journey telling myself that I can't cry? That I can't _ever_ let myself cry, or I won't stop? I'd never even seen a _fistfight_ before two years ago. I'm scared, Jaune. I'm scared all the time, and I'm so scared because my friends are out there, and there's nothing I- nothing I- there's-" The sobs overwhelmed her as she trembled and wept. She reached for him, and Jaune put an arm around her, small comfort that it was, as she buried her face in his chest, feeling the wetness of her tears gathering on his breast. "I'm the Crown Princess of Atlas! And I can't do anything. Please, Jaune, we need to do something. There has to be _something_ we can do. Please!"

For a while, they were silent but for the occasional sob. Jaune held her, then quietly added, "…I don't know. I'm sorry, Weiss, I just don't know what we can do."

"We could still steal a ship, couldn't we?"

"We couldn't really crew it, and even if we could, we still wouldn't know where to find them."

"Someone has to know where they are—we can try and find someone in the military who'd know where the ship went, and, and…" she was trying to think her

"Huh… 'Someone has to know where they are,'" her murmured, "Someone _would_ have to know where they are…"

"Do you… do you have a plan?"

He bit his lip. "It's a long shot. It's really a guess, but…"

She snapped to attention. "What do we need to do?"

"As Princess…" His words were measured, but gaining speed, like he was coming up with the plan as he spoke. "You would have access to Atlas's Central Communications Systems, the cross-Kingdom communications network, like the Interplanetary CCT relays, right?" She nodded to that. "I just… I think we can make a few calls."

It was hope—weak hope, maybe doomed hope, but it was hope, and she wasn't about to let that go. She grabbed Jaune by the arm and dragged him from the room. He could explain on the way; there was no time to waste. Their friends were in danger.

* * *

Laser fire tore through the hordes of Griffons and Nevermores that seemed to fill her targeting screen, but for every one that Blake ripped apart, three more swooped at the ship. Yang broke away, once again, as the numbers were simply too numerous to even get close.

As they pulled away, she glanced at the _Basilisk_—it was enormous, so massive it dwarfed even the Atlessian Dreadnought. That the White Fang could build such a thing… What had they become?

In the corner of her eyes, she spotted something, something that wasn't Grimm. A ship! An escort from the Atlessians? But as it bore down on them, she realized, to her dismay, that it was a ship very familiar to her, and it dawned on her who it was. The only one it could possibly be.

"Blake…" The voice on her intercom confirmed it. That unmistakable voice, the sound of her nightmares and oldest dreams. The voice of Adam Taurus. "I know you're here, Blake."

Yang's voice was quick to interject. "Blake, you know he's crazy, you don't-"

"They imprisoned you, didn't they? I was enraged when I heard about it. It took all of my strength to remain here, to not go and tear Atlas apart for your freedom. I had to stay, to complete our work, I had to put the _cause_ first."

"Damnit, he's jamming us! Blake you don't have to-"

"They have lied to you, they have turned you against your people, against _me_," she stiffened, her heart racing as she heard the hint of a snarl in his voice, "But I understand. I can _forgive_ you, Blake. I can forgive everything. Surrender, renounce these humans, and we can pretend this never happened."

She could feel it, as revolting and hateful as it was, the part of her that desperately wanted his forgiveness, to go back to how things used to be. She would never be free of it, never be free of him, and she _hated_ herself for it. She wasn't strong enough, she'd never be strong enough, and all she had to do was give up, beg his forgiveness, accept her punishment, and it would all be back to normal.

"You have a choice, Blake. You've always had a choice."

Her hands trembled on the controls as she made her decision.

With a sudden burst of strength, she whooped the war cry she'd heard Yang scream. As a delighted Yang joined her on the intercom, they whooped and hollered as she pulled the trigger and opened fire on Adam's ship. A futile gesture. She knew she would die, but she would die _free._ Her only regrets that she wouldn't get to see the look of shock and uncontrollable fury on Adam's face.

Except… she didn't die. Even as her laser fire splashed harmlessly on the deflector shields, the ship suddenly jerked away before it could return fire, as an explosion bloomed across its back. _Someone else had fired on it!_ As Adam's battered ship was forced off it's attack, she saw the massive, certainly not Atlessian, gunship that had been their savior—a ridiculous, ritzy looking thing that seemed to put great stock in appearance, but armed with a powerful set of heavy lasers and what looked like a dozen other guns bristling from its hull. Like the _Raven_, if it's owner was as preening as they were violent.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha's voice crackled on the intercom, heavy with disbelief, almost unable to comprehend their fortune.

Her intercom notice lit up and—wait, were they playing _theme_ _music_? "…I fly halfway across the galaxy, flying into certain doom, and the first thing they ask is if I'm Jaune. It breaks my heart, truly, it does."

Nora's voice exploded from the speaker, "_ROMAN?_"

"Don't you know it, kiddos! Your old Uncle Roman is here to save the day!"

Ren cut in, confused. "But Roman, you _never_ help anyone. You used to tell us that routinely."

"Pretty much every day," Nora added.

"Can't a man just enjoy the chance to turn the tables on the woman who'd been controlling his life and come to the aid of his friends?"

"Not you," Nora replied. Ren included an "Obviously not."

"Well, it's the tru-" There were sounds of a scuffle. "Damnit, Neo! Alright, alright! Let's just say, a Royal Atlessian Pardon for all crimes, more money than I can carry, and promising me a medal the size of my head goes a long way."

"Alright Roman," a wary Yang interrupted the reunion, "Bygones are bygone and if you're here, you're here. So cover us as we make our approach and-"

"Nah, I'm not handling the fighting part of this. You're all crazy, but I'm not. No, I'm just here because your good captain _apparently_ figured out I had a tracker on your ship and could find out where you were. Just had to send him the signal that you're still alive, and he can relay that to his 'friends of the family.' You know how he is."

"To who?" Blake was about to ask when a blue emergency light answered her question. She didn't have the precision sensors of the cockpit, but she could intuitively understand what such a massive gravitational disturbance meant.

Just out of range of the _Basilisk_, she watched incredulously as a cruiser jumped in, followed by another, and then a third. A fleet's worth of frigates and, finally, another full Dreadnought then came into view. Blake's heart leapt—the big ships were just as vulnerable to the _Basilisk_ as the Atlessian fleet, but this fleet came prepared with a host of small craft! Those could screen their approach—they had a chance!

Her intercom crackled to life with a calm, authoritative voice. "This is Admiral Ozpin of the Royal Valean Navy, broadcasting on all frequencies to make contact with General Ironwood of Atlas."

"This is Commander Schnee, General Ironwood's ship is currently incapacitated, but we're holding the Grimm back as well as we can." Her voice, while carrying a wounded pride, was unmistakable in its relief. "…Thank you for your timely arrival, Admiral."

"We once made a pact between all Kingdoms to fight the Grimm together. Today, we honor that pact. Commander Oobleck, move your wing to provide cover and assistance to the flagship. The capital ships will remain at this range to provide support. And I have a note for the crew of the… _Juniper_, I believe."

"We're… listening, Admiral," a stunned Yang answered.

"I was asked to relay a message from a Jaune Arc. He apologizes that he's not here in person, but he hopes this provides some restitution. Hmm… I can't help but feel I've heard _that_ name before. Anyways, Commander Port, your wing will provide an escort for the _Juniper_—we need to get them to boarding range of that ship, or this is all for naught."

"Huzzah!" a voice boomed from the intercom, rattling Blake. "We're on the point, lads! And keep a good count of how many Grimm you take down—we've got plenty of fuselage space I've been _itching_ to paint!"

Well, well, well. It seemed the good captain had come through after all. Blake smirked as a dozen escort craft lined up with them. They might have picked up a full squadron of fighters, but they were still heading straight into the thick of it. She readied her targeting reticule as Yang plunged the ship straight towards the _Basilisk._ They'd been given their window. Now it was time to end it.


	12. Sisters By Blood

Ruby couldn't believe it. They had a real shot now! Jaune and Weiss had… she wasn't quite sure _what _they did, but it had saved their lives. Even when things seemed darkest, her closest friend in the whole galaxy was out there, working to bring in an entire fleet to save them, it was… her heart just swelled with something Ruby wasn't sure she'd ever felt before. Confidence surged as all of her self-doubts seemed so far away now, it was like they'd never even happened in the first place. Friendship won again!

"Of course he came through," she heard Pyrrha chuckle to herself, "How many times had Jaune told me about his sister in the Valean government, and how many more times had he told me about his sister-in-law's work on the CCT Network? Of course he could come up with a plan."

The light was back in Pyrrha's eyes, and with it, Ruby felt hope.

As Ruby finished strapping on her boarding gear, Pyrrha ran down their strategy. "Alright, we'll be boarding soon. The plan's simple—find Cinder, defeat her at all costs, then get out before the big guns annihilate the ship."

"Sounds good, but," she nervously cut in, "what's the plan with Cinder? I'm not sure I know how to, uh, blast her like I did last time."

Pyrrha chuckled at that. "No, I don't think we'll be able to count on that again. But if you focus, just as you did with the Leviathan, you'll still be able to make use of your strength against her. You have the power of a silver-eyed warrior. You won't be able to bind her like you can a Grimm, but you should be able to limit her powers, especially when she'll be sacrificing so much of her focus to keep the fleet at bay."

"And… are you going to be alright?"

The ship rumbled slightly—Yang was bringing the ship in, fast, and, judging from the sound of the lasers shrieking and bursting all around them, it was taking all their firepower to cut a path through the Grimm horde.

"Cinder had the advantage last time, but this time, I'm back to my full strength, and I have you. Also…" she smirked, "you and Cinder aren't the only ones with special tricks up your sleeves."

But their talk was interrupted as Nora signaled they were close enough to board. Now or never, she thought, as she felt the familiar weightlessness, and then the sudden drop onto a new floor.

The interior of the _Basilisk_ was… unsettling. She had expected a fairly rough and pragmatic interior, reflecting the White Fang's relative inexperience as shipbuilders, but not _this_. The floor felt crooked, and the lighting seemed perpetually dim. Everything was hard, angular, and jagged, and there was a near absence of cabling and other signs of technology. It felt like she wasn't in a spaceship, but an old, haunted castle.

But it was the quiet that really unsettled her. The _Juniper_ was a noisy ship, even outside of battle, with the _thrum_ of its engines or the soft burst of a steering thruster. In the battle, he could hear the laser fire and the occassional _thump_ of a Grimm against their armor. Noise was a constant. But here... _As quiet as the grave_ a voice in her head suggested. She shivered. It was also colder in here than she expected.

Strangely, there seemed to be no Grimm, neither that she could see or sense, but it felt like the shadows around her could come to life at any moment. She walked with Pyrrha, the rhythmic _click click click_ of their footsteps on the metal floor being the only sound she could hear.

She could sense Cinder—she'd been able to sense her since before they even boarded the ship, so monstrous was her energy—and they continued to head towards the center of the dark maelstrom that seemed to engulf the region. This power was unbelievable, even compared to the incredible power she felt when she'd first managed to sense the power of Aura. Pyrrha had said Cinder would be distracted by holding the fleet at bay, but Ruby shuddered to think of what the fight would be like if _this_ tremendous power was brought to bear against them.

But it seemed they were about to find out soon. Once again, she and Pyrrha stood facing a door, with an intense, malevolent force _pulsing_ from behind it. But this time would be different. She nodded at Pyrrha as a "you first." Pyrrha gestured to the door, which flew open before them, giving them their first look into the main room of the _Basilisk_.

A great central column ran up the middle, a multitude of pipes and walkways built around and feeding into it. It pulsed with a shadowy energy that made Ruby feel slightly ill to even look at, like it would draw her in and turn her inside out. It seemed the room had a number of deep chasms, which, Ruby noted, lacked any kind of guardrails or safety features. Yep. This sure was built by the bad guys.

And, of course, the main bad guy was standing right before that column.

She stood there, unfazed, as though she'd been waiting for them this whole time. Her golden eyes seemed to glow in the dim room, reflecting and magnifying the light from the flames now building in her hands.

Alright, then. Showtime.

Ruby focused her mind, reached deep within her, and _pushed_ outward. It wasn't the maddening rush of power when she bound the Leviathan, but a softer, though insistently present, white haze that seemed to gently fog her sight. She could still see Cinder perfectly well, though, as she focused that power on her, and could feel her anger, bloody and terrible, _push_ back against her.

Well, push all she liked: as long as Ruby was in the fight, Cinder's powers would be limited.

Unfortunately, she wasn't strong enough, or Cinder was still human enough, that she couldn't freeze her in place. With an infuriated roar, she leapt forward as the fires died down in her hands—still enough flames to shape a sword out of what seemed to be _molten glass_, which was quickly matched by Miló in the melee.

Ruby was quick to move in, feeling the flow of Aura as Crescent Rose's swift, powerful swings crashed down upon Cinder. She and Pyrrha fought together, in perfect sync, but Cinder was something else. Her strength was inhuman, and her reflexes were faster than anything Ruby had ever seemed before. It was like she had a hundred blades, flashing in the darkness and shrieking as they made contact with Crescent and Miló.

They broke off the attack, leaping backwards to get some distance between themselves and the witch. Both sides paused for a second, assessing each other for a weakness or opening.

Then Cinder strode towards them, calmly, deliberately, and, at last, spoke. "Pyrrha…" she hissed, "You bring Summer Rose's _daughter_ here? You bring me _proof_ of the Order's cruelty and think you can twist her to your cause, like Glynda did to us?"

Hearing her mother's name in that hateful voice infuriated Ruby. She flung herself at Cinder, only to miss. With a squeal of metal on metal, she caught Crescent on the ship's floor to whip herself right back at the villain, only to get deflected again.

"Don't try to deceive her, Cinder." Pyrrha attempted to exploit the opening she'd left her, but Cinder parried her blow hard enough to shatter her glass sword and, under a rain of glass shards, put Pyrrha on the back foot. "Summer died fighting the Grimm—the forces _you_ now serve—she was not killed by the Order."

"_Glynda_ never told you," she hissed, "Because she knew you couldn't handle the truth. You were too young, too naïve. _But no one leaves the Order_. How many times did they tell us that? What do you think my orders were for if we found the apostate _alive?_"

Horror caught in her throat, and the white haze lifted from her eyes for a second—only a second, but it was time enough. Flames leapt from Cinder's hands, driving Pyrrha back, and in that instant, Cinder was upon her. Before she could even raise Crescent to block, Cinder clocked her across the face with a punch—damn lucky she didn't have one of her glass swords ready, but enough to knock Ruby back.

Her left hand caught Ruby by the shirt—how was this woman so inhumanly _strong_?—as she lifted her bodily and flung her across the room. She tumbled across the floor as she pitched into a chasm, barely catching herself with her scythe. As she struggled to hold on, she grasped for a handhold to pull herself back up. She hoped for dear life that Pyrrha could hold her off for a moment longer.

* * *

Sword met sword. Glass was more brittle than steel, but she's seen her make use of her shattered swords already, and she knew how easily Cinder could reform her blades—she knew not to count too much on it. Feint, turn, dodge, strike—deflect, feint again.

_To slow by half, sister._

Sidestep her strike, anticipate the kick, connect forehead with face.

Cinder staggered back from the headbutt, but regained her stance. "Always forget you were a dirty fighter."

"It's how I always beat you before," she replied, taking the moment to lift the metal of Crescent Rose—and the attached Maiden—from the chasm. Ruby was quick to return to the fight, a tornado of steel, illuminated in silver.

It was hard to believe that, of the three, _Ruby_ was the one who fought like a demon. What she lacked in the precision she'd have learned as a Maiden, she made up for in speed and intensity. The blade of her scythe _screamed_ as it tore through metal, a shower of sparks and shards left in her wake. And she only seemed to be gaining in strength as the fight went on and she tapped further and further into that terrible fury deep within her. Now Cinder was on the back foot, and Pyrrha was quick to press the advantage.

They drove her back, their blows hammering Cinder's defenses, a symphony of coordinated violence. But Pyrrha's anger rose hot and she demanded answers, crying out, "Cinder! You were my _sister_!"

"They lied to us, Pyrrha!" A burst of flames forced Ruby off her assault. "Limited us. Denied us our _true_ power so they could control us. Made us pawns in their foolish games." Sword to sword, she battered Pyrrha back, her blows empowered by her rage. "If you had abandoned your foolish loyalties, I could have shown you, shown you true power, the _true_ nature of the universe!"

"You succumbed to darkness, you-"

"You could have stopped me!" She shrieked, flinging a dozen glass needles, nearly as sharp as her words. "I came to you first, tried to make you see—and you could have turned me in, could have prevented this! But _you_ succumbed to _your_ weakness!"

Ruby leapt to strike her, but Cinder's hand, hot as a plasma cutter, sliced through a vent, and a gout of steam blasted the two of them backwards. Worse, it disrupted Ruby's concentration, giving Cinder the opportunity to summon a tremendous pillar of fire—not aimed at either of them, but at the ship itself. Pyrrha realized that Cinder was risking the entire _Basilisk_ in a last-ditch effort to take them down. A rain of metal and debris came down, which Pyrrha deflected, but Ruby was not so lucky. Caught in the debris, she struggled mightily, but she seemed stuck tight—Pyrrha could fix it with her semblance, but she couldn't afford to give Cinder an opening. The only chance for either of them was if Pyrrha pushed the offensive—take up all of Cinder's attention and hope she either won, or bought Ruby time to rejoin the fight.

She mustered a hail of debris, which Cinder easily dodged. Good, she wanted to drive her back. She charged forward with Miló, deflecting the glass missiles Cinder flung at her until they were back to their duel. Their blades met in a terrible clash.

* * *

_The older girl who held her hand during thunderstorms, who told her she didn't have to be scared._

* * *

She leapt back as she snapped a steel bar loose and flung it at Cinder with her semblance. She dodged, but had to stagger as Pyrrha deformed it midair, whipping it back around at her. An opening.

* * *

_The witty teen who always seemed to be so effortlessly cool, even when doing their menial chores, who wasn't afraid of anyone. The woman who was everything she ever wanted to be._

* * *

She made use of her surroundings, repulsing herself from the metal wall behind her and locked on to the metal behind her target, Miló pointed first, and easily smashed through Cinder's hasty defense. They tumbled to the floor. Her chance.

* * *

_Her sister, furious at injustice, angrier than she'd ever seen before, filled with a righteous anger, who held the sisterhood so sacred, she'd destroy it for its failings._

* * *

She hesitated.

Cinder didn't.

A shard of glass pierced her leg and she crumpled to the ground. Pain shredded her nerves, and even her Aura couldn't check it.

Death, she realized, stood before her, wearing her friend's face, but it was Death, her death, no matter what it looked like. There was a peace that came with that, even with the sharp sting of regret, the knowledge that she would never get her chance with Jaune, as she knew her fate was sealed. But even that regret lost its sting, as she knew that, no matter what happened, she knew she had been right about Jaune—for all he was, he was, in truth, a hero. He would never give up, not truly, and he would take up the fight even as she had fallen. Whatever he could have been for her in those other lives, now, he was her Hope, and she, though saddened, was content with that.

_So let it come down._

She looked Death in the eye. "Do you believe in destiny?"

Cinder looked down at her, disdainfully. "Yes," she replied, and shaped a new shard of glass.

Time froze as she pulled the missile back and Pyrrha accepted her hour—and then the hurricane struck.

Pyrrha watched as Cinder buckled under the intensity of Ruby's tackle, her glass missile spinning harmlessly through the air. She realized her chance, and using her semblance, guided Crescent Rose upwards into place for Ruby to take her swing.

The blow, empowered by both of their strengths, tore right through Cinder's defenses—and Cinder. Pyrrha looked away, but she felt the darkness subside as Cinder's control… broke. The ships were free and Cinder was… Cinder would soon be dead. There was nothing left for them here.

She clicked her transport beacon, and soon felt the weightlessness of the teleporter activating. But before she was gone, she looked back one last time, one last look at the wreck of the woman who had been her confidant, her dearest friend, her sister—and then she was gone.

* * *

"Alright, got a lock, got a lock, got a… Nownownownow!" Nora fired up the teleporter and watched as Ruby and Pyrrha materialized in the room, both crumpling in a heap, but _very much_ alive. "We are clear to get going!"

"Roger that!" Yang answered. "Attention capital ships—boarders are clear, you are free to fire!"

Nora glanced over to her viewscreen, even as she moved to help Ruby get Pyrrha to the medbay—that girl seemed to have the worst luck in boarding with Ruby, really—just to appreciate the light show as the main guns of the twin Dreadnoughts laid waste to the _Basilisk_. Firepower like she'd never seen before exploded against that under-designed monstrosity (she was certain _she_ could design a much better superweapon if they had only asked). She let out a cheer as they reduced it to scrap. Everything was going great: they'd defeated Cinder, they'd saved the galaxy, she was pretty sure Yang and Blake were getting together, something she learned of an hour ago and was now extremely invested in, and she knew she was _certain_ to get pancakes after this—from both Ren _and _Jaune. He'd better not think he's off the hook for apology pancakes just for saving their lives!

As she helped Ruby lay Pyrrha down on the bed, she heard the intercom activate with the voice of a man full of the gratitude and simply astonishment of being alive. "This is General Ironwood to the ships of the Valean fleet and the brave souls aboard the _Juniper."_ Ooh, she was a brave soul now, that was one for the scrapbook! "You have saved countless lives and averted catastrophe—on behalf of my crew, and the people of Atlas, I cannot thank you enough. What you have done for us is a debt that may never be repaid." Oh, that better not be the polite way of saying "no reward!" Nora could think of about 20 things he could at least start with, and she was not above sending an itemized list.

"We upheld our oaths and fulfilled our duty, old friend," that one guy who was Jaune's dad or something added, "But I think it's time we got out of here; we'll cover your exit."

Well, they'd have time to haggle over that later. She hurried over to the engine room to handle their escape—there were still a lot of Grimm in the area, and it'd be really anticlimactic to defeat Cinder Fall only for a random Nevermore to finish them off.

* * *

They all clustered at the door as the boarding ramp descended to the hanger, and for the first time in her life, Nora was not the most energetic of the group.

The ramp had barely made contact with the ground before the lot of the poured out of the ship, into a crowd of technicians, personnel, and dignitaries. Boring people, in other words, who Nora did not at all care to see. But then, Weiss, in a very un-royal fashion, and apparently dressed in an ill fitting soldier's uniform (or was that how royals dressed?), seemed to fly across the room, cutting a path through the crowd and pulling her friends into the tightest hug she could muster. Words seemed to fail the lot of them—Yang tried to tease her, but it seemed she couldn't quite form words through her own, exuberant tears.

Then she spotted him.

Jaune, awkwardly and nervously standing a respectful distance away, looking all the world like he was rehearsing every possible apology he could give them. One of which had better involve pancakes, at the least, but so long as that base was covered, she'd already decided to accept his apology pancakes. His plan had saved their lives, after all.

But Pyrrha, in a very un-Pyrrha way, shoved past all of them, not letting her injured leg even minorly slow her down, to pull Jaune into her own, tight hug. Evidently, she held no hard feelings for him, either.

"Kiss her you idiot!" She hollered. _Oops_, she really shouldn't have, Ren would—wait a second. Nora knew that she usually yelled with a Nora voice, and that _hadn't _been a Nora voice at all! Not a Nora voice at all! It had been a…

She looked over at Ren, her smile getting bigger than she'd ever smiled before as she joined her partner by yelling, "YEAH, WHAT REN SAID!"

She figured Pyrrha must have been willing to accept his apology, because she had to admit, it was one heck of a kiss.

**I guess I'm just too sentimental to really kill off a character :)**

**Next chapter's the end—thanks for sticking with me on this journey.**


	13. Ad Astra Per Aspera

**I'm going to put my notes up here this time, to let the story play out on its own. Thank you for reading this story to the end—when I first outlined it, I was originally confident it would come in under 40,000 words. Thank you everyone for the faves, follows, support, and critiques; I was wildly unprepared for what writing in this environment would be like, but I always appreciated your engagement with my work. It's a very humbling experience. I've already heard some questions if I have plans to continue this story, either with a sequel or prequel (though the words "space opera" and "prequel" don't have the best history together). Maybe I will in the future, but right now, I've told the story I wanted to tell, and I have no immediate plans to do more with this AU, or even whatever it is I'll be writing next. But, as always, these aren't my characters and it's not my playground—if anyone wants to take it up and do their own Space Opera AU or even your own sequel, feel free. After all, my own contributions were mostly just ripping off Star Wars, anyways.**

**Anyways, thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it, and I hope you enjoy this denouement.**

They were back in the same apartment they were quartered in when they first came to Atlas, but this time, it felt like a real hero's welcome.

Yang and Blake were on the couch, enjoying the downtime as Yang cuddled up on her girlfriend's shoulder. _Girlfriend_, hard to think of that being their relationship, but it was, and she had to admit, it was pretty good. She idly sipped her drink—the finest Atlessian ale she didn't have to pay for, perks of being a hero—as Blake devoured her sushi. Ren was mostly asleep in his chair, a book on business management still open in his lap, while Nora was trying to defeat Neo in some kind of ice cream eating contest. Roman was reclined in his chair, smoking a ludicrously expensive cigar, while a medal the size of a dinner plate rested on his chest.

She gave him a lazy grin. "You got any plans to ever take that medal off, Roman?"

He looked at her in mock confusion. "Medal? What medal do you- Oh, you mean my Atlessian Medal of Valor, Awarded for Conspicuous Gallantry by the Atlessian Parliament, at the recommendation of the Crown Princess of Atlas herself? Is that the medal you're talking about? This medal? If it is: never. I am never taking this medal off, and, as I have told Neo, I am wholly planning to be buried with it." He gave his medal a satisfied pat.

Blake snorted at his display, but Yang got where he was coming from. They'd all received medals for their service, smaller than Roman's promised monstrosity, but now that she had a medal, she really wanted to wear it everywhere. But her real reward was the look on the King's face as he had to do his best to look happy as he pinned their medals on. Even better was watching his face as Weiss spoke—it had been a wonderful speech, speaking to the universal cause of peace, justice, and brotherhood, between Kingdoms and Humans and Faunus. But watching her father stew as she called on all Atlessians to reject prejudice and fight for a better tomorrow, _that_ had been fun.

It seemed that Roman wasn't done yet, though. "Oh, and it's _Count_ Torchwick now, commoner. It seems my business acumen impressed them as much as my undeniable heroism, and I've been granted a mining colony to administer."

"Oh?" Blake cut in, "One of the mining colonies famous for their _appalling _record on Faunus rights?"

"The same! But believe me, kittycat, I've got no plans of overseeing a bunch of grubby mines. Yep—I'm using it to build the biggest casino in known space! Gonna be printing money in no time, and it'll all be 100% legit and aboveboard!"

"And the Faunus?"

"That's the trick! They'll be making a boatload of money, too—believe me, I'm no cheapskate. Thinking I'll even make it the first casino themed around the Faunus civil rights movement—don't roll your eyes at that, young lady!" He pointed right at Blake. "I think you'll find I have quite the in with the Faunus. After all, there _was_ that time I saved the life of the one and only daughter of Ghira Belladonna..."

Yang laughed at that. "Pfft, no you didn't. Blake's already told us she's not one of those Belladon-" But her eyes went wide as she noticed her girlfriend's ears crumpled and her face turned bright red. "Blake, you're not, _tell me you're not-_"

"He's just… It's not _that_ big of a deal."

Roman roared with laughter.

* * *

Jaune looked up at the ship.

It looked more scarred than it had ever been, deep gouges and burns across the frame. The anterior signaling antenna had been shorn clean off, and the one of the front armor plates, which he'd known were loose for the past three weeks and kept forgetting to ask Nora to tighten them, were now just a bolt shy of falling right out.

He'd made a hundred apologies; he'd thrown himself at his friends' mercy, but they were mostly just happy that they had all come out of it alive. But this apology… the ship looked down on him, impassively, but he could tell—it felt his betrayal, and it'd be hard to win its trust back. It would be a very long time before he could call it his ship again.

He felt Pyrrha's hand on his shoulder, a comforting presence, but another reminder of his failures. If he hadn't panicked when she first confessed her feelings for him, he could have- could have-

"It's alright Jaune, it's alright." She always had the strange power to make his self-loathing dissipate with her voice. "You know, you don't have to do this—none of us blame you."

"I promised Saph I'd make things right if she used her contacts for me, and it's not like I can refuse to meet Admiral Ozpin, after, you know, he saved all of your lives." He fidgeted "Also… I promised myself I'd face the music and stop running from things."

"No matter what," she gentle massaged his shoulder, "what you're doing is very brave. And I'm here for you—I'll always be here for you."

He smiled, a real, genuine smile, as he looked into the eyes of the woman he could never possibly deserve, and would never not be ceaselessly grateful for.

But then the familiar click of a cane on the concrete floor of the hanger made him aware of Admiral Ozpin's arrival.

He snapped to a salute, by reflex more than anything. "Admiral Ozpin, sir," he began, slowly, but deliberately, trying not to think about the fact that this was the man who had, a lifetime ago, given the welcome speech on his first day at the Academy. "As I said, as a sign of the sincerity of my claims, I promised to turn myself in and face trial for my desertion from the Valean Navy. I stand by what I've done, and I am prepared to make account for my defense."

The Admiral nodded, a slow, purposeful move, then spoke. "A noble gesture, however, I don't believe you are _accused _of any crimes, young man."

"But… everything at Montglenn, and, and," he gestured to the ship, "the _Juniper_, I… stole it." He choked on his words as he realized what he was doing. _Idiot! Don't look a gift horse in the mouth!_

"Hmmm. True, true. I do seem to recall there was an incident at an _unauthorized_ prison facility in a Valean Duchy. But I don't believe we have any records or evidence of persons involved in those events, besides this ship, which I do not recognize as even resembling anything the Royal Navy, or any of our Ducal Navies, have ever fielded. And besides," he pointed to a deep gouge on the side of the ship, "This ship does not appear to have a name at all. I can hardly accuse you of stealing an unknown, unnamed ship."

He was right, the ship's name and identification numbers had been ripped right off. "So, I'm…"

"Free to go? Nearly. I believe you've already met my associate, Glynda?"

Jaune followed where he was gesturing and was stunned to see the figure of Glynda Goodwitch, standing a short distance away, looking as though she'd been there the whole time.

He glanced over to Pyrrha, who seemed just as surprised. "You… you know each other?" she stammered out.

She seemed to glide across the room to the Admiral. "Ozpin is not merely some Valean Admiral. He has, in truth, been involved in the history of the Maidens and the entire galaxy for longer than you can imagine."

"I keep my involvement indirect, when I can, and largely rely on empowering people of noble character to do the work of protecting the galaxy. Never underestimate that your hard-won efforts make a meaningful change in the world, whether in destroying a superweapon," his gaze felt to Jaune like he was looking right through him, but whatever he was seeing in him, his voice carried a note that seemed like pride. "Or helping the downtrodden realize the power they had to break their chains."

Ms. Goodwitch nodded. "But we believe it's time for you and your companions to take a more active role in the protection of the galaxy."

Pyrrha gave Jaune an uneasy glance. "I sense that you're about to tell me that there's more to this than just Cinder Fall and the White Fang."

"Have you ever heard the name of Salem before?"

Jaune hadn't, but the name still seemed to draw the air from the room. Pyrrha's voice seemed far away, a half step above a murmur. "Cinder… mentioned it once. Before she…"

Ozpin nodded. "She is the Queen of the Grimm, and the one who has orchestrated all of this. She has been our enemy since ancient times."

"What," Jaune's voice wavered, but he caught himself. "What would you have us do?"

Admiral Ozpin looked him over, seemingly assessing him all over again, but more thoughtfully than critically. "As I understand it, your friend, the Princess of Atlas, has a plan for you all to continue the work you started." How he knew this, Jaune knew not to ask. "Tell them what we've told you. I will get you in contact with my agents, some you may be surprised to find you already know. Our enemy is clever and amorphous, always moving, always reforming herself to a new end. It is difficult to know her plans or where to find them, but you will have our full aid in searching her out and thwarting her plans." He turned with Ms. Goodwitch to leave, Pyrrha and Jaune being both too stunned to ask any questions. "We will be in touch."

"Oh, and Mr. Arc, Ms. Nikos," he added, "I noticed your ship seems to have lost its name in the battle. It's terrible luck to fly in a ship without a name. If you're open to suggestions," he smiled, "I believe 'the _Beacon' _has a nice ring."

He caught what he thought was a glimmer of a smile from Ms. Goodwitch, but it was so quick, he wasn't sure if he imagined it.

Once they had departed, Jaune's shoulders slumped as he could finally breathe. "I thought I was going to _die._"

Pyrrha broke out in a fit of giggles. "Of all the things that might have happened, I really wasn't expecting to discover… that." She smiled at him, a smile with such warmth and fullness he felt like he could take on the whole world. "Sure is a weight off to learn you're not facing prison, though."

"Yeah, but," he rubbed the back of his neck, "We've got something even crazier, and we've got to explain all this to Weiss and the rest."

"I think they'll take it well. I don't think any of us were expecting we _wouldn't_ get drawn in to an even crazier reality than we'd ever known before." She gave him a conspiratorial look. "You know, talking to Nora, I realize that the real fight's going to be about dividing the new cabin spaces now that we're looking to have a permanent crew of eight."

"Ugh, don't remind me. I am going to miss having the captain's cabin, and I just know Nora's gonna stick me right in that corner by the kitchen, just to try and force me to bake more."

"Um, about that," Pyrrha began, shyly, eyes downcast, "I was just thinking… if you wouldn't object, I mean, I wouldn't mind if…" she looked up, blushing furiously, "if you might be interested in sharing quarters?"

He felt his own cheeks grow hot and his throat dry as words failed him. He could only nod, which set off an even more furious blush on Pyrrha's face, which surely set off an even worse one on his own face. It was amazing, it was unbelievable, that he'd find someone so wonderful, and that she, this perfect, beautiful, amazing woman would give him a look of such adoration. How could anyone find the words for this moment?

So he kissed her.

Yeah, he thought, as she pulled him into a deeper kiss, this was the right choice.

* * *

Weiss gave the room one last look over to make sure everything was perfect.

They were about to have their first meeting as a full crew, and she couldn't allow anything to be wrong or out of place. She had various data files, of ship schematics and intelligence reports—including what little she could find about this "Salem" that Jaune and Pyrrha had told her about—as well as food and drink prepared around the room. It was perfect, everything was set up exactly how it should be, but she threw herself into looking it over one more time. As neurotic and anxious as this was, it was better to be thinking about that than what _really_ was occupying her mind.

She heard the knock at the door and her heart stopped.

She stopped herself, took a deep breath, and then went to open it. "Hey Weiss!" Ruby cheerfully answered as she came into the room.

"Hi… Ruby" she said in her best, likely failed, effort to not sound completely artificial.

Fortunately, Ruby seemed not to notice. Unfortunately… "Hey, am I the first one here?" Weiss tensed, then nodded. _Don't say anything don't say anything._ "Huh, that's weird. Blake is usually, like, super punctual, so it's kind of weird that nobody else is here yet." _Maybe there's a reason for that you dolt!_

"Well, you know, she's with Yang now and… stuff."

"Nah, I'd expect her to be even _more_ on time, just because she really likes making Yang do things. And what about Ren, he's really good at getting Nora to-"

"Alright! I gave you a different time to be here than everyone else! I wanted to…" Now or never. "I wanted to talk with you. Privately."

"Oh." Ruby blinked at her. "Oh!"

"Yeah."

She had faced down the White Fang, Cinder Fall, her _father_, and yet, this was what would kill her. Death by social awkwardness. Yang would be sure to spell it out in full detail on her tombstone.

She cleared her throat. "Ruby… I know I'm not the… _best_ person at expressing my feelings at times, and I can be…" Come on, courage, just a little bit more… "I just think… On our journeys together, I think I just… I really like you. I _really_ like you, Ruby. And I know we haven't… said much about this, but…"

They stared at each other, both equally at a loss of what to do next.

This continued for what felt like an eternity.

"Ok!"

Weiss's eyes went wide. _Okay? What does "okay" mean?_ Terror welled up in her mind, freezing any thoughts of asking a clarifying question. Why did she have to choose a word that could mean literally anything! Did it mean she just liked her as friends? What if "okay" meant no? What if it meant she didn't want to be around her anymore? _But…_ she trembled to think it,_ what if it meant yes?_ Okay could mean yes, right?

There was no guidance for this in charm school! Taking all of her courage, Weiss gently tilted her face forward, hoping, in this, her response was clear enough.

It was.

It was!

Ruby's lips met hers—too quickly, at a weird angle, and it was mostly teeth; none of them really knew anything about kissing, but none of that mattered! None of that would _ever_ matter, as she kissed her… her… she didn't have a word for it. Didn't matter! They kissed and it was perfect!

"Woo! Get some, princess!"

In absolute mortified horror, Weiss looked up to the unspeakably smug grins of the last two people she ever wanted to see in a moment like this. Yang and Blake, like twin gargoyles, smirking at her from the doorway.

"Blakey here wanted to make sure we showed up real early, was worried you'd be uptight about us being late. But please, don't let us _interrupt anything…_"

She inwardly screamed in fury as she outwardly hurled a pillow at the interlopers.

* * *

Everything was good.

Blake and Yang and Jaune and Pyrrha had finally gotten their feelings in order. Presumably, Ren and Nora had done something like that as well, just in their own, Ren-and-Nora way. And Ruby, as uncertain and confusing and new as all this was, had never felt more excited, never felt more _right_ than when Weiss had confessed to her. She'd never really thought of life in terms of her romantic future, but it was... nice. They were heroes, they were in love, things were good.

And best of all, there would be no "going our separate ways" afterwards.

Weiss called the meeting to order and began. "The first thing I want you to know is that I've created a jointly owned trust to finance our journeys, to be controlled by all of us collectively. This means I'm no longer your employer, and I have no title or claim over any of you. We are all in this together, and we are all equals in it."

She gestured towards a display, showing White Fang activity across the Kingdoms. "We still have matters to attend to. The White Fang has been dealt a setback, but they are still a widespread and powerful force. And from the information we've received from Admiral Ozpin, Cinder was only one agent of a much more dangerous force."

"Salem," Pyrrha added, drawing on the map a number of regions they could begin their investigation in. "A name we know very little about, but we know that she is, somehow, the source of the Grimm. If she could be stopped, we could change the face of the entire galaxy."

Blake nodded, and pulled up photos of a handful of Faunus leaders on the map, matched to what regions they were active in. "More immediately, if the White Fang could be shown exactly who they're partnering with—and if we can persuade the Kingdoms to make a sincere effort to meet them halfway—the movement won't stick to their worst elements."

Weiss looked over the map, now full of notes, pictures, and labels. She pursed her lips. "We've got our work cut out for us."

"Like we'd have it any other way," Yang boasted, cracking her knuckles. "But I think the real issue we'll be facing is in this room right now. I'd like to propose the following rules to minimize dating angst, and I'll admit, 90% of them are about you, Blake. Rule number one: the following jokes are okay-" she was cut off as Blake whacked her with a pillow, only for Nora to flip a couch cushion at her head. The pillow fight was on in a flash.

Above the melee, Weiss shot her a scandalized look, but Ruby could read right through it—she wouldn't trade this crew, she wouldn't trade _her_ _friends_, for the world. As childish as they could be, as perilous as their journeys would be, in that look, Ruby knew there was no one Weiss would rather face this with. And Ruby knew her own smile, as big and bright as it had ever been, said the exact same thing back to her.

It was amazing what you could say without using words.

* * *

**END**

* * *

**Coda**

She gasped awake, a terrible, burning pain lancing up her left side. Her leg—why couldn't she move her leg? Why couldn't she _feel_-

And then the memories flooded back. The fight, the blade, the ship, ripped apart by gunfire, and the flames, flames she could not control, her whole body wracked with pain-

And then the rage. The blind, mindless rage that seized at her and _mastered_ her pain. She screamed, wordlessly, silently, only to feel a dark, familiar presence that quieted her rage and pain.

"M… M-mistress, I, I-" she choked. Where was she? What had happened? _How was she alive?_

"It's alright. It's alright." A soft, gentle voice answered her. A voice whose kindness and compassion belied an unmatched power and cruelty.

"B-but I failed, I f-failed you." _And failure only means death._

"Failed me? No, my loyal servant, you have not failed me. You've not failed me at all. You've played your part _excellently_."

She glanced down, and immediately regretted it. There wasn't anything there—at least, not anything _her_. Burnt and ruined flesh had been replaced with, with… with abomination, a mixture of metal and Grimmstuff, a black suit of inhumanity that now sustained her. This was no prosthetic, no support—it was something welded to her soul. It was something that _clung_ to her and _pulled_ her into the world of the living.

It was something powerful.

"You have made them aware, my child, you have taught them what _can be_. And now they know it was only the beginning."

She inhaled, then exhaled, the sound metallic and monstrous. She coiled her fingers, feeling the sensation. Yes, she had been defeated, _humiliated_ by that damnable child and the idiot girl she had once called friend. But she was not dead. She could not be dead. She could not die. Her power was greater, far greater than it was before. Even as the ruin of her skin and nerves screamed in pain, she smiled.

She would have her revenge.


End file.
